The witching hour. I'm gathering my resistances, but, instead, send tiny armed forces across the floor. Winged horses and knights with their swords drawn. They are circling my bed as I chant the spells of protection. Soon, somehow, it will be morning. The queen looks back. She's literate so she quotes Archibald MacLeish: "What love does is to arm. It arms the worth of life in spite of life." Her smile is bittersweet.
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