So...

“Just the idea. Read it in a book once about these two, young lovers who came from warring families and wanted to be together. She faked her death but he didn’t know she was faking it. He killed himself thinking she was dead, then she off’ed herself seeing he was dead,” Connor replied. “If you know any apothecaries, they might be able to help?”

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“Not surprising you’d think so,” Ash replied with a grin interrupting her. “I was the weakest of the litter and was surprised the mother’s didn’t throw me into the sea seeing how frail I was. But being the runt they did cast me off and left the streets to kill me instead. But I managed, I suppose. Folks still didn’t like me. Of course, you were miss “raised as they should all have been” so it was hard to compete with you. But even so, I remember you never threw rocks at me like the other kids did. Tried to stop ‘em a time or two if I recall. So at ten I joined the service. Life was hell, but then puberty kicked in and I put on muscle and grew a foot. I did well in an assault on Frankia a few months back so they gave me my pick of assignments and I asked to come home.”

He straightened his uniform a bit. “You must be doing well for yourself. Course, with how you grew up…,” and he paused giving her a full look over from head to toe, “I’m sure some nobleman swooped you up, am I right?”

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