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Évrard D'Aboville-The Creature 

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Évrard D'Aboville-The Creature 


Stepping out of the car, my shooed feet find themselves on familiar narrow cobblestone streets lined with half-timbered houses. The crisp scent of rain on dry earth lingered.

Troyes looked much as it did in the 15th century. It was one of the few places in my past that I kept to myself. Though it did not mark the beginning of my bloodstained legacy. It's the place I became Évrard. That is a story for perhaps another time.

Reaching back, I offer a hand to her. She steps out of the car and despite being a disheveled mess, she moved with more grace than most royals were capable.

"You brought me to a clothing store?" She asked, her eyes cut to me suspiciously.

"Yes, I brought you to a Boutique. I even thought you might like to eat after." I thrust my hands in my jeans pocket smiling. I kept my lips sealed this time. I wasn't trying to scare her.

Her brows furrowed and her frown deepened. This development didn't seem to sit well.

"I thought you might want to dress in something other than my clothes. Unless I have that wrong too." Most women would jump at the chance to play Julia Roberts, Pretty Woman for a day. Most except for her.

"Listen about what happened in the car..."

Ah! That's what this is about. She thought I was trying to buy her affection. "It was a moment of weakness and nothing more. Think no more of it."


Her brown eyes darted down and to the side, avoiding my gaze. "Right. A moment of weakness. Don't assume it will happen again."

"I would never dream of it." In fact, I had done just that, many times. And if she thought that after what happened between us, I wouldn't touch her nor taste her again she was a bigger fool than I gave her credit for.

"Shall we?" I pull open the heavy shop door to usher her inside.

The quaint little store boasted only fashion of the most tony and high-end design. Nothing I have ever purchased here has ever had less than three spaces before the decimal point.

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