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𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔬𝔫 𝔓𝔞𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰
𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔬𝔫 𝔭𝔞𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰, 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱,
ℑ𝔫𝔨 𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔡𝔰 𝔠𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔰𝔬𝔫, 𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱,
𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔰𝔬𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔴, 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔫, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯,
𝔈𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯, 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔲𝔩 𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔡 𝔟𝔞𝔯𝔢.
𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔡𝔯𝔬𝔭 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔞 𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔢 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔬𝔩𝔡,
𝔒𝔣 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔨𝔢𝔭𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔲𝔫𝔣𝔬𝔩𝔡,
𝔒𝔣 𝔰𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰,
𝔒𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔧𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔫𝔢𝔶𝔰, 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰.
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔱𝔢, 𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔡,
𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔠𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡,
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔫𝔨 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔞 𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔫,
𝔄 𝔥𝔞𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰.
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔬𝔫 𝔭𝔞𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰, 𝔞 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠 𝔰𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱,
𝔄 𝔱𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔣 𝔫𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰,
𝔄 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔢𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔰,
𝔒𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔞𝔠𝔱, 𝔬𝔫 𝔩𝔦𝔣𝔢'𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔰.
𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬 𝔴𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡, 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔶 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰,
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔟𝔩𝔢𝔢𝔡, 𝔞 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨 𝔬𝔣 𝔞𝔯𝔱,
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔩𝔢𝔤𝔞𝔠𝔶 𝔩𝔢𝔣𝔱, 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔟𝔶,
ℑ𝔫 𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔬𝔫 𝔭𝔞𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔰, 𝔴𝔢 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔦𝔯 𝔠𝔯𝔶
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Historische Romane✎ ᴀ ʏᴏᴜɴɢ ꜰɪʟɪᴘɪɴᴀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ᴡʜᴏ ꜱᴀᴠᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴇɴɢʟɪꜱʜ ꜱᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴇʟɪᴀᴢᴀʀ. ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴅᴇᴠᴇʟᴏᴘ ᴀ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ᴄᴜᴛ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴇxᴘʟᴏʀᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ʟᴏʏᴀʟᴛʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠᴀꜱᴛᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴇꜰꜰ...
