To Him, Miaserra said:
Decant the liquid without sediment. Steady hands make a difference.
Breathe steadily as it does, fractured red in cut crystal.
Wait until the ideal moment, revealed by surface vibrations.
Stay alert. Timing is everything.
Drink, and your future is revealed.
To me, she instructed:
Descant without sentiment. Empty heart precludes harsh memories.
Gasp convincingly, straddling the chasm between was and is.
Let him have his moment, rewarded by your tremors, another notch on his belt.
Stay awake. His time is limited.
Sacrifice virtue, and revenge is yours.
She failed to mention the resultant babe.
Damned witches.
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