He has been trained as the heir to the Witch-Queen. He has been raised among women, taught by women, and is used to the thought that he will spend his life as a woman. He wears robes and skirts. His unbound hair falls down his back. Asclepius coils in his right hand and whispers ancient wisdoms through his body.
He turns away from the storm framed in the window, and kneels to bank the fire. Across the room, the old card-reader shivers in her sleep, dreaming impossible futures.
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