From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. Celeste he knew. The lady had disappeared. Never mind, I’ve got plenty. Lucia dismissed the rumors, as it was not likely an archbishop would renege on his duties to become her personal doctor.
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