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... a hurry. The words seeped into her thoughts often enough that it was to the point of being obnoxious.
Here she was, hurtling across a sea of snow on a horse, with falling flakes clinging to her hair, the rush of wind breathing a new life, a new air that felt so cold, so liberating-her second taste of freedom after so long kept confined behind sealed doors, wandering seemingly endlessly the empty, oppressive halls of stone and marble.
And yet the questions still remained.
...
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