Your Most Exalted Majesty, Your Grace, ect., ect.:
I don't know what ruddy else I can offer. You won't have a fig to do with my lands or my money or anything, I suppose, of value to anyone else. I suppose that makes you a good father but it certainly makes things rum for me. I haven't anything else to offer, but a sincere heart, one that aches for Bramble, her sweet, plucky spirit, her smart whippish mouth, her heart, and her dear hand.
I'm in agony now, hoping that my steward will convince you. If not I think I'll break all the windows in the house and drown myself in a bucket.
A most sincere heart-
Lord Edward Albert Hemly Haftenravenscher, Esq.
We still have your watch. You can have it back tonight. All you need to do is sneak up after dinner, set the tower, and flee the country. Agreed?
Heather Dixon WallworkBramble: Your afraid of the King. Admit it.
Mr. Bradford: My lady, who isn't?
How daintily the butterfly
Flits to the spider's lace
Entranced by glimm'ring silver strings
Entwined with glist'ning grace.
How craftily the spider speaks
And whispers, 'All is well,'
Caresses it with poison'd feet
And sucks it to a shell
I sort of......accidentally....tore it to pieces.
And threw it in the fire.
Well, he was mine after all.
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