“Michelle, it’s me, Lucy. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. Something softened in Melusine’s chest. “Would they make her Queen?” She asked innocently. ‘Now then, where did you spring from?’ ‘Do not concern yourself from where I come,’ Melusine snapped.
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