The Serpent's Orphan
The moor wind howled across Blackmoor like a thing denied its due, tearing at Eliza Thornfield's skirts and whipping her dark hair across a face already pale from years of hunger and solitude. She ran. Behind her, the village of Thornfield Ridge had erupted once more—lanterns bobbing in the twilight, men shouting with that particular mixture of fear and cruelty that only arises when the known...
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