Chapter Nine
Francesca was dying.
I heard her cough in the night. I watched her as she drank strange concoctions of herbs that the healer said would cure her ailment. But I could tell that nothing would take hold. Something in her had been used up. Her pagan fires burned at such a low flame, I knew that it would only be weeks, perhaps a month or two and they would be extinguished altogether.
I nursed her every day. It was an easy task, especially since it took me away from Jacques, and the thought of his wandering hands roving the skirted behinds of other women, his c**k finding its way inside other succulent cunts.
I nursed Francesca with the potions she demanded, and cloths to soothe her fiery skin and with words of comfort to remind her that she was linked from this world to the n
