But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. The sky beyond was a surreal color of pink that reminded her of the windows she had once been entranced by at the castle chapel, their leaden lines depicting old religious stories and sufferings. They were in different key, they had a different timbre. She found herself trying on the baubles he brought home, placing the silver rings upon her slim fingers, knowing that he would take up her hand and kiss it.
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