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Summary
“Is it fear that haunts you, Sir Hans?” Henry was gloating now, taking one step forward. Closing the distance he created. He’d grabbed the reins and thrown this horse's head off its godforsaken track. “Are you afraid someone will hear a whisper in the dark? What about when you breathe my name into your wife’s ear?”
The blacksmith steam rolled viciously through his veins.
“You have no right—“
“Then put me on the fucking gallows, you royal prick.”