She was a swagger of a girl, beautiful and skilled at weaving words like a warlock in war and spinning wool like fingers in a mess. When her mother sent her to the bishop with gifts, she said to her: take care that the bishop is a bit out of his mind. She found him moving mother-of-pearl figurines on a black and white board. What is this, father? God bless you, little girl. This is how He moves …
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