I remembered the sound of the hoofbeats belonging to the cocoa brown steed she always rode from her father's farm merely a mile north of the abbey in which I was studying o'er the summer. We'd met frequently when in the country I travelled, spending summers at the abbey in my aspirations to become an abbé. The abbey itself was measurably small when
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No sympathies needed, dear Antigone. We must each follow the paths our hearts lay out for us and I was no longer in hers. Live and let live, after all.
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Are you, Aramis? Or are you the hypocrite people claim you to be?
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I had mentioned nothing about not forgiving, Milady. In fact, my spite was quickly altered to forgiveness after a bout of prayer. Mine was simply a summer's memory.
He then tilts his head slightly and lets a grin accent his appearance.
But to read into an assumed conclusion such as that makes me wonder if there's some ghost haunting you that perhaps you haven't shared with me..
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Not to sound presumptuous, but it sounds as though you're seeking confession. What's causing your guilt, madame?
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