\"What's that?\" Lucy asked. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. " "You'll never live to see that day," cried Blueskin, fixing a menacing look upon him.
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