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. How
young and vulnerable. He has been deeply hurt. That is why
he wears the armor of arrogance and unfeeling. It chafes
him now. He is not used to it. But something tells me he
will become all too accustomed to this armor before his
brief life ends.
Moving carefully and quietly so as not to disturb him -
more by instinct than because she feared she would wake
him from his enchanted sleep - Amberyl slid out from his
unconscious embrace. Gathering her things, she wrapped
the scarf once more about her head. Then, kneeling down
beside the sleeping mage, she looked upon Raistlin's face
one last time.
"I could stay," she told him softly. "I could stay with
you a little while. But then my solitary nature would get the
better of me and I would leave you and you would be hurt."
A sudden thought made her shudder. Closing her eyes, she
shook her head. "Or you might find out the truth about our
race. If you ever discovered it, then you would loathe me,
despise me! Worse still" - her eyes filled with tears - "you
would despise our child."
Gently, Amberyl stroked back the mage's prematurely
white hair, her hand caressed the golden skin. "There is
something about you that frightens me," she said, her voice
trembling
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