“The wagons puffed and smoked, and hauled everything back up the ramps into the ship, and then they lowered their scraping blades and pushed all the garbage back into the circus grounds where it belonged, with the stripped yellow bones of Ithc at the bottom. Later, in Stellaraire's room, she poured Roan a glass of wine and sat on his lap. "I never knew how much I loved you, until you fought Ithc for me," she said. "Nobody's said anything about him," Roan said. "Aren't they going to investigate h...is death?" "Why should anyone bother? He wasn't much use with a ruined hand, anyway." "But what about his friends . . . " "You're talking like a Terry," Stellaraire said, and sipped her wine appreciatively. Roan tasted it, too. It was a blossom-pink Dorée from Aphela and it tasted like laughter. Algol II was a wonderful pale green gold-edged mountain that filled half the immense view screen in the dusty old room that had once been the grand observation salon. "I've got an idea," Roan said, standing with his arm around Stellaraire's slim waist.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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