The tent in which she first met him had smelled of blood, of the death she did not understand, and still she had thought of it all as a game. She had promised him the world. His flesh in the flesh of his enemies. And much too late had she realized what he had sown in her. Love. Worst of all poisons.
Cornelia FunkeAbout author
- Author's profession: Author, Writer
- Nationality: deutsch
- Born: December 10, 1958
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