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In silence Rowena walked back to her prison cell. It was a relief when she could be alone again and face the shattering thoughts that had overtaken her.

She would never beg for the Sultan's love, because he was not, and never could be, the man she loved.

The man she loved was Mark.

It was Mark.

It had always been Mark.

How long had she been in love with him and refused to admit it to herself?

Perhaps from the first evening when he had made her so angry, yet left her with a strange feeling of excitement. He had thrilled her even when she had thought she disliked him.

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