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... llow, and even the dreams were sweet.
Her long eyelashes fluttered as the saint awoke from her slumber. The afternoon sunlight filled her amethyst eyes, making the drowsy maiden resemble a breathtaking springtime painting.
The blanket retained the fluffy warmth of sunlight along with the faint fragrance left by the girl. As Jeanne d’Arc shifted into a more comfortable position, intending to linger in bed a little longer, an unfamiliar sensation in her hand made her squint and gla ...
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