"Well, I do not know about God, but I know that the devil lives in me." She snorted a laugh. "Always in Paris, that was what I was told. By priests, even! So it must be true... did it work? Do you like them?"

She held out her hand, for his. She wanted to touch, to see if his skin really was as smooth as it looked. How could this cruel place do such miraculous things?

"You think I look like a princess?" That softened her up a lot. "Always, I have wanted a dress like this. But when they gave me one, it was when I was trapped in a nightmare, and it went back to my old rags. And now, it shall be my death shroud."