Perhaps that is one reason Paradisa is called so. Prejudices can be as much a prison as iron bars.
Lucrezia watches her white hand against his dark vest, turning her eyes slightly to the curve of his chin. She remembers these things, body parts, lines and shapes she could memorize in case. In case. "Tell me about your dreams. Are they happy ones, with laughing children and idyllic meadows?"
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Lucrezia watches her white hand against his dark vest, turning her eyes slightly to the curve of his chin. She remembers these things, body parts, lines and shapes she could memorize in case. In case. "Tell me about your dreams. Are they happy ones, with laughing children and idyllic meadows?"