Domitille sat in the interrogation room like a queen upon a throne, shoulders back to bear the weight of her realm, eyes far-seeing and implacable. Her wrists flicked in handcuffs as though they were no more than modish jewelry — one of the inevitable sacrifices of mobility for fashion — and she studied her nails for any unseemly chips or cracks. She, of course, found none.
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- Style: Elegant Notebook for Gold Leaf by
- Resources: Yusuke Kamiyamane and Atle Mo