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Summary
"I get it, you want to—"
"Ride the Bull, yes." She's a whisper of ruffles and fine silk passing him before he even knows it, leaving him leaning stupidly in her doorway. "Or rather, no. I am occupied for the remainder of the day with treatise work, Iron Bull. You will have to try again some other time. Please locate your pants and leave before the marquis arrives, which will be shortly."
Bull isn't exactly courting material, but Josephine isn't always particularly courtly.
