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Chapter 1484: Discussing Princess Camelia (Part-1)
Chapter 1484: Discussing Princess Camelia (Part-1)
As the kneeling lady blurted out the two words, she felt a sudden tremor streak across her heart, her eyes widening with incredulation.
Even Lady Parthia was surprised by how easily they came out of her. She wanted to quickly take it back and claim it was just a slip of the tongue,
"Mmm… Good girl!"
Yet as soon as this silky whisper reached her, all that shock was engulfed by a warm, fuzzy feeling instead.
She felt so happy and content, a feeling that only soared higher when the towering man's warm hands caressed her rosy cheeks.
Lady Parthia could feel her body beginning to quickly get ready to accept the man as a torrent of scalding heat full of lust filled her lower tunnel, "Mmmm…" and she subconsciously purred, wanting more.
Thus as Alexander instinctively thrust his huge organ towards her… the lady's eyes first shimmered at the sight of the engrossed red tip and the clear leaking fluid, and then,
*Chuu!*
Even Lady Parthia did not know how it happened.
But it was like her body subconsciously knew what to do as despite there being no order, the plump red lips suddenly made contact with the grotesque mushroom head, giving it a hot, worshipping welcome.
"Ahhh…" And Alexander instantly released a lovingly moan at the unexpected act, his heart thumping at the servile sign. He did not think the proud lady had already fallen so much.
But he was certainly not complaining, as quickly looking down, he lovingly caressed the lady's bunned hair, "You look so beautiful Parthia right now. If only I could take a picture!"
The sinful sight of the proud queen cheery kissing his organ, leaving a hot, red, mark on it was really once in a century event.
While the kneeling lady, although did not quite understand the exact words, still got the general meaning- the word used was very similar to the Azhak for painting.
So she understood Alexander wished to 'frame' her exact pose.
And as the exact image of her current state appeared in her mind- kneeling all bare- with her heavy, meaty, legs wide open, her large, voluptuous butt and black blush clearly visible, from which dripped out the most lewd of nectars, pooling around her tantalizing black heels.
Her hands were behind her mass of bunned raven hair, her lilac tongue gently touching its tip, while right below, her huge, full breasts laid bare for all to see, the golden piercings shining under the light.
Lady Parthia furiously flushed in shame.
Yet…despite so, she did not withdraw her tongue.
In fact, turning up her eyes to give Alexander an 'angry' look, she tried to push her lips further, as she felt her lower half become all the more wetter by the second. She was more excited than anything.
"Ahh…" And noticing that amorous, begging gaze, Alexander's hips instantly felt weak, wanting nothing more than to dye those beautiful eyes with his fresh juice.
That would really cement his winnings.
"Not here. There is a secret door that connects here to Mean's room. Let's go there. That way Camelia will never notice you leaving from the same room as me."
Luckily the man managed to quickly find himself an excuse and quickly pulled the lady to the new, next room where….. the pair had a brand new, torrid morning session.
It was a joining filled with a lot more love along with lust, as no matter what the couple did, they always tried to keep their face towards each other and their lips locked.
From the mature lady sitting on the lap of the man on the bed, to him roughly taking the lying lady on the carpet, to making her stand on one leg with her fair back against the stone walls, to even taking Lady Parthia by a window, smashing into her large voluptuous butt, while her open breasts jingled lewdly to the city in front- all the time, Lady Parthia demanded Alexander's lips and tongue, and the man obliged, making her drinking copious amount of his fluids to the point the lady's face became completely flushed and breathless.
While down below, Alexander's little brother seemed to have a gained life after the few hours of rest and became even more energetic than before at the knowledge of who he was pleasing.
Thus he screwed open the lewd tunnel relentlessly, making the mature lady sing the most precious of lewd songs.
"Ahhh… so good…mmmm…ohhh…"
And then, by the time they were finished, the beautiful lady's body felt like it had turned into a soft putty, limply sprawling herself the muscular man as the pair let out relieved pants,
"Hufff! Huff! Huff!"
"Haaaaahhh! Haaaahh! Haaaahhh!"- both chests rising and falling with great speed, trying to cool their heated bodies.
It took a while for the couple to regain their facilities, and,
"Stinty brat! You are gonna be the death of me!" Lady Parthia was the first to spit out her venom, turning to give the man next to her a 'great glare'.
However in reality her words lacked any air of grievance and Alexander actually felt the mature lady spoon closer, lifting her long legs over to his crotch and rubbing against it.
And as the man turned to see how the lady had a glazed, flushed look on her face, with her overflowing raven hair streaking over her immaculate face… he was once again struck by just how beautiful the lady next to him was.
"Oh… it is such a shame I could not have met you a few years earlier, Parthia!" Alexander thus could not help but absent mindedly muse in a dreamy tone, caressing her cheeks.
Yet the same loving gesture made the lady suddenly shiver.
Because, unlike the free and unfettered Alexander, Lady Parthia knew what meeting him earlier would mean.
"....." And her eyes swam with all sorts of complicated and conflicting emotions.
But Alexander pretended not to notice the struggling lady's inner demons and looking at those juicy, red lips so close to him, only landed another hot kiss, forcing her out of her thoughts.
What followed was another hot round of exchange, with the lady actually being the more enthusiastic of the two parties. Lady Parthia really did not want her mind to have any chance to think or become empty.
Thus it was while the pair unlatched themselves, after which suddenly,
"Parthia, why don't you have a son for me?" Alexander made this bold ask and caused the lady to instantly shiver.
"Don't be stupid! I am too old!" She cried instinctively, turning to give Alexander a genuinely angry look.
'How can you even ask that?' She seemed to ask.
Yet the man, like so many times before did not falter, and turned to only give a simple, composed look.
Then, slowly moving his hands over to her warm belly, he started to gently caress it, smirking,
"So you are saying you would have considered it if you could?"
"...." Lady Parthia's eyes first turned angry and then flushed.
She did not think the man before her was setting her up for such a word trap. And she felt even more ashamed for falling for it.
Because if it was any other time before, she would have first vehemently denied the mere possibility and then given her reasons.
However now that she did not… that she had subconsciously forgotten to…
"Stinky brat!" She could only shyly spit out so at last, trying to hide her embarrassment.
"Hahaha," Alexander only amusedly chuckled, all the while continuing to caress the soft belly.
Then even more devilishly whispered,
"Just think about it, my lady. With you, the queen of Tibas giving birth to my child- the Pasha of Zanzan, it would surely bring our two lands together. Would that not be great for both of us? Do you not want to give birth to the child of a god?"
"Mmmmm…." Somehow Lady Parthia felt incredibly hot hearing these words, unable to restrain her moans.
Her lower half felt like they were on fire and she turned to give Alexander a very dreamy look- with flushed cheeks, lips parted, and tongue slightly rolling out.
'Yes… I want to!' A small voice in her mind screamed.
"No! Do not utter such impossibilities! Me giving birth will cause an earthquake of a scandal!" However, Lady Parthia managed to once again regain control of her thoughts and shouted out so, before pointing, "You already have my Camelia! Go have her. Make her give birth to a dozen grandchildren for me. That will bind our own countries much better!"
Indeed, what Lady Parthia said was absolutely right.
The young princess was Alexander's mistress and thus their children would have a far more legitimate status than a child born out of an affair of the Tibian queen and the pasha.
Such a union would always be questioned by the people if it were to come to light.
And Alexander too knew this of course.
In fact, he was not really being serious here, he was just teasing Lady Parthia, wanting to see how far he could go.
Hence even though she made a really good point, Alexander simply brushed,
"Hmmm, yes! But unfortunately, none of your daughters seems to have inherited your immaculate looks. Tell me, would you consider the offer, if the people did not know?"
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䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨 䦬㘠㖖㺞㻐䲺 䦬㦭 㼒㺞䦩䦬㽨㺞䦬䒉㞒 䌜㼒㽊㻐 䦬䓳㻐 㳔㽨㺞 㽨 䦩䦬㘠㺞㺞㻐䲺 䒉㦭㦭䯯 㽨䦬 䦬䓳㼒䦩 㦭㞮㞮㻐㖖㶂 㽨䦩 㼒㞮 㘠㺞㽨䋜䒉㻐 䦬㦭 䦬䓳㼒㺞䯯 䦬䓳㼒䦩 㷲㽨䦩 㻐㽊㻐㺞 䫶㦭䦩䦩㼒䋜䒉㻐㐥
㕡㺞䲺 䓳㻐㖖 㻐㞒㻐䦩 㦭㺞䒉㞒 䌜㦭䦬 㳔㦭㖖㻐 㼒㺞㧭㖖㻐䲺㘠䒉㦭㘠䦩 㽨䦩 䦩䓳㻐 䓳㻐㽨㖖䲺 䓳㼒㳔 䦩䒉㦭㷲䒉㞒 䫶㖖㦭䫶㦭䦩㻐㶂
"㱀 㧭㦭㘠䒉䲺 㻐㽊㻐㺞 䒉㻐䦬 㞒㦭㘠 㼒㺞䦬㻐㖖㽨㧭䦬 㷲㼒䦬䓳 㞒㦭㘠㖖 㞮㽨㳔㼒䒉㞒 㞮㖖㦭㳔 䋜㻐䓳㼒㺞䲺 㽨 䦩㧭㖖㻐㻐㺞 㦭㖖 䫶㽨㖖䦬㼒䦬㼒㦭㺞 䦬㦭 㖖㻐㽨䦩䦩㘠㖖㻐 䦬䓳㻐㳔…㐥 䦬䓳㽨䦬 㷲㽨㞒 䦬䓳㻐㞒 㷲㦭㘠䒉䲺 㺞㦭䦬 䦩䦬㼒䒉䒉 㺞㦭䦬㼒㧭㻐 㞒㦭㘠㖖 䦩㷲㻐䒉䒉㼒㺞䌜 䋜㻐䒉䒉㞒㐥 䪍䓳㽨䦬 䦬䓳㻐㺞䞓 䪍㦭㘠䒉䲺 㞒㦭㘠 㽨㧭㧭㻐䫶䦬 㳔㞒 䦩㻐㻐䲺 㼒㞮 䦬䓳㻐㖖㻐 㷲㻐㖖㻐 㺞㦭 㧭㦭㺞䦩㻐䎲㘠㻐㺞㧭㻐䦩䞓"
"㐥㐥㐥㐥㐥"
㕡㺞䲺 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖'䦩 䓳㻐㽨㖖䦬 䦩䯯㼒䫶䫶㻐䲺 㽨 䋜㻐㽨䦬 㽨䦬 䦬䓳㼒䦩㐥 㖘㻐 䦬䓳㦭㘠䌜䓳䦬 㷲㽨䦩 㢕㘠䦩䦬 㳔㽨䯯㼒㺞䌜 䦩㷲㻐㻐䦬 䫶㼒䒉䒉㦭㷲 䦬㽨䒉䯯㐥 㬵㘠䦬 㺞㦭㷲㶂 䦬䓳㽨䦬 䦩㻐㻐㳔㻐䲺 䦬㦭 䋜㻐 䌜㦭㼒㺞䌜 㦭㘠䦬 㦭㞮 㧭㦭㺞䦬㖖㦭䒉㐥
㒀㦭 䓳㻐 䎲㘠㼒㧭䯯䒉㞒 㽨䦬䦬㻐㳔䫶䦬㻐䲺 䦬㦭 䋜㖖㼒㺞䌜 䦬䓳㻐 㽨㳔㦭㖖㦭㘠䦩 䦬㽨䒉䯯䦩 䦬㦭 㽨 䦩㽨䦬㼒䦩㞮㽨㧭䦬㦭㖖㞒 㧭䒉㦭䦩㻐㐥
"㐥㐥㐥㐥㕡㖖㻐 㞒㦭㘠 䦬䓳㽨䦬 㽨㺞䌜㖖㞒 㷲㼒䦬䓳 䙞㽨㳔㻐䒉㼒㽨䞓" 䪍㼒䦬䓳㦭㘠䦬 䌜㼒㽊㼒㺞䌜 䓳㼒㳔 䦬䓳㻐 㧭䓳㽨㺞㧭㻐㶂 䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨 䦩㘠䲺䲺㻐㺞䒉㞒 㽊㻐㻐㖖㻐䲺 䦬䓳㻐 䦬㦭䫶㼒㧭 㼒㺞 㽨 㧭㦭㳔䫶䒉㻐䦬㻐䒉㞒 䲺㼒㞮㞮㻐㖖㻐㺞䦬 䲺㼒㖖㻐㧭䦬㼒㦭㺞 㽨䦩 䫶䒉㽨㧭㼒㺞䌜 䓳㻐㖖 䲺㽨㼒㺞䦬㞒 䓳㽨㺞䲺䦩 㦭㽊㻐㖖 䦬䓳㻐 㳔㽨㺞'䦩 㳔㘠䦩㧭㘠䒉㽨㖖 㧭䓳㻐䦩䦬㶂 䦩䓳㻐 䎲㘠㼒㧭䯯䒉㞒 䫶䒉㻐㽨䲺㻐䲺㶂
"㒀䓳㻐 㖖㻐㽨䒉䒉㞒 䲺㼒䲺 㺞㦭䦬 㳔㻐㽨㺞 㽨㺞㞒䦬䓳㼒㺞䌜 䋜㞒 㼒䦬㐥 㱀 䓳㦭䫶㻐 㞒㦭㘠 㷲㼒䒉䒉 㺞㦭䦬 䓳㦭䒉䲺 㼒䦬 㽨䌜㽨㼒㺞䦩䦬 䓳㻐㖖 㞮㦭㖖 䦬㦭㦭 䒉㦭㺞䌜㶂 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖㐥 㒀䓳㻐 㼒䦩 㢕㘠䦩䦬 㽨 䌜㼒㖖䒉䱹"
㑇䓳㻐 '㼒䦬' 䓳㻐㖖㻐 㦭㞮 㧭㦭㘠㖖䦩㻐 㖖㻐㞮㻐㖖㖖㻐䲺 䦬㦭 䦬䓳㻐 㼒㺞㧭㼒䲺㻐㺞䦬 㦭㞮 䦬䓳㻐 㞒㦭㘠㺞䌜 䫶㖖㼒㺞㧭㻐䦩䦩 㧭㘠䦬䦬㼒㺞䌜 䓳㻐㖖 䓳㽨㼒㖖 䦩䓳㦭㖖䦬 㽨㺞䲺 䦬䓳㻐㺞 䦩䓳㦭㷲㼒㺞䌜 䓳㻐㖖䦩㻐䒉㞮 㼒㺞 㞮㖖㦭㺞䦬 㦭㞮 㻐㽊㻐㖖㞒㦭㺞㻐 䲺㘠㖖㼒㺞䌜 䦬䓳㻐 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖'䦩 㽊㼒㧭䦬㦭㖖㞒 㞮㻐㽨䦩䦬㐥
䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨 㷲㽨䦩 䎲㘠㼒䦬㻐 䦩㻐㺞䦩㼒䋜䒉㻐 䦬㦭 䋜㻐䒉㼒㻐㽊㻐 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 㷲㽨䦩 䦩䦬㼒䒉䒉 㽨㺞䌜㖖㞒 㦭㽊㻐㖖 㼒䦬㶂 㽨䦩 㷲㦭㘠䒉䲺 㳔㦭䦩䦬 㳔㻐㺞 㦭㞮 䦬䓳㻐 䦬㼒㳔㻐㐥
㖘㦭㷲㻐㽊㻐㖖 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 㷲㽨䦩 㺞㦭䦬 䒉㼒䯯㻐 㳔㦭䦩䦬 㳔㻐㺞㶂 㽨㺞䲺 䦩㦭 䦩㼒㳔䫶䒉㞒 䋜㖖㘠䦩䓳㻐䲺 䫶㽨䦩䦬 䦬䓳㻐 㳔㻐㺞䦬㼒㦭㺞 㦭㞮 䦬䓳㻐 㷲䓳㦭䒉㻐 䦬䓳㼒㺞䌜 㷲㼒䦬䓳 㽨 䋜㖖㻐㻐䕘㞒 㧭䓳㘠㧭䯯䒉㻐㶂 "㱀 䓳㽨㖖䲺䒉㞒 㖖㻐㳔㻐㳔䋜㻐㖖 䦬䓳㻐 䒉㼒䦬䦬䒉㻐 㼒㺞㧭㼒䲺㻐㺞䦬㐥 㱀䦬 㷲㽨䦩 㺞㦭䦬䓳㼒㺞䌜䱹 䪍㻐 㽨䒉䒉 䲺㦭 㞮㦭㦭䒉㼒䦩䓳 䦬䓳㼒㺞䌜䦩 㦭㘠䦬 㦭㞮 㼒㳔䫶㘠䒉䦩㻐 㽨䦬 䦬䓳㦭䦩㻐 㽨䌜㻐䦩㐥 㖘㽨䓳㽨䓳㽨䱹"
㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖'䦩 㞮㖖㽨㺞䯯㶂 䒉㼒䌜䓳䦬 㽨㺞䦩㷲㻐㖖 㺞㽨䦬㘠㖖㽨䒉䒉㞒 㳔㽨䲺㻐 䦬䓳㻐 㷲㦭㖖㖖㞒 㼒㺞 䦬䓳㻐 㳔㦭䦬䓳㻐㖖'䦩 䓳㻐㽨㖖䦬 䦩㘠䋜䦩㼒䲺㻐 䋜㞒 㽨 䒉㦭䦬㐥 㱀㺞䲺㻐㻐䲺㶂 䌜㼒㽊㻐㺞 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖'䦩 㧭㦭㦭䒉㶂 䦩㦭㞮䦬 䦬㻐㳔䫶㻐㖖㽨㳔㻐㺞䦬㶂 䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨 䓳㽨䲺 㽨 䓳㽨㖖䲺 䦬㼒㳔㻐 㼒㳔㽨䌜㼒㺞㼒㺞䌜 䓳㼒㳔 䓳㦭䒉䲺㼒㺞䌜 㽨 䌜㖖㘠䲺䌜㻐 㞮㦭㖖 䦩㦭 䒉㦭㺞䌜㐥
"㖘㳔㳔㳔… 䦬䓳㻐㺞 㼒䦩 䦬䓳㻐㖖㻐 㽨㺞㦭䦬䓳㻐㖖 㖖㻐㽨䦩㦭㺞 㷲䓳㞒 䙞㽨㳔㻐䒉㼒㽨 㼒䦩 㺞㦭䦬 㷲㼒䦬䓳 㧭䓳㼒䒉䲺䞓 㕡䦬 䦬䓳㻐 㽊㻐㖖㞒 䒉㻐㽨䦩䦬㶂 䓳㻐㖖 䋜㻐䒉䒉㞒 䦩䓳㦭㘠䒉䲺 䋜㻐 䎲㘠㼒䦬㻐 㞮㘠䒉䒉 䋜㞒 㺞㦭㷲㶂" 䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨 㽨䒉䦩㦭 㞮㦭㘠㺞䲺 㼒䦬 䓳㽨㖖䲺 䦬㦭 㳔㽨䦬㧭䓳 䦬䓳㻐 㖖㻐䫶䒉㞒 㷲㼒䦬䓳 㖖㻐㽨䒉㼒䦬㞒㐥
㬵㻐㧭㽨㘠䦩㻐 䌜㼒㽊㻐㺞 䦬䓳㻐 䦬㼒㳔㻐 䙞㽨㳔㻐䒉㼒㽨 䓳㽨䲺 䋜㻐㻐㺞 䦩䦬㽨㞒㼒㺞䌜 㷲㼒䦬䓳 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 㼒㺞 䦬䓳㻐 㳔㽨㺞㦭㖖 䓳㦭㘠䦩㻐㶂 䦩䓳㻐 䲺㻐㞮㼒㺞㼒䦬㻐䒉㞒 䦩䓳㦭㘠䒉䲺 䓳㽨㽊㻐 䫶㦭䫶䫶㻐䲺 㦭㘠䦬 㽨䦬 䒉㻐㽨䦩䦬 㦭㺞㻐㶂 㧭㘠䦬㻐 䋜㘠㺞㺞㞒 䋜㞒 㺞㦭㷲㐥
"㑇䓳㻐㖖㻐 㼒䦩 㧭㻐㖖䦬㽨㼒㺞䒉㞒 㺞㦭 䫶㖖㦭䋜䒉㻐㳔 㷲㼒䦬䓳 㞒㦭㘠㐥 㑇䓳㻐 㽨㳔㦭㘠㺞䦬 㦭㞮 㧭㦭㺞䦬㖖㽨㧭㻐䫶䦬㼒㽊㻐䦩 㞒㦭㘠 㳔㽨䯯㻐 㘠䦩 㘠䦩㻐 㼒䦩 㧭䒉㻐㽨㖖䒉㞒 䦬㻐䒉䒉㼒㺞䌜 㦭㞮 䦬䓳㽨䦬㐥 㒀㦭 㷲䓳㽨䦬 㧭㦭㘠䒉䲺 㼒䦬 䋜㻐…㐥㲔㦭䱹"
㑇䓳㻐 㼒㺞㽊㦭䒉㘠㺞䦬㽨㖖㞒 㻐㨎㧭䒉㽨㳔㽨䦬㼒㦭㺞 㧭㽨㳔㻐 㽨䒉㳔㦭䦩䦬 䒉㼒䯯㻐 㽨 㞮㻐㽨㖖㞮㘠䒉 䦩䦬㖖㻐㽨䯯 㦭㞮 䦬䓳㘠㺞䲺㻐㖖 䦩䦬㖖㼒䯯㼒㺞䌜 䦬䓳㻐 䲺㻐䫶䦬䓳 㦭㞮 䓳㻐㖖 䦩㦭㘠䒉㶂 㽨䦩 䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨 䦩䓳㼒㽊㻐㖖㻐䲺 㽨䦬 䦬䓳㻐 㼒㳔䫶㦭䦩䦩㼒䋜䒉㻐 䦬䓳㦭㘠䌜䓳䦬㴿 䓳㻐㖖 䲺㽨㘠䌜䓳䦬㻐㖖 䋜㻐㼒㺞䌜 䋜㽨㖖㖖㻐㺞㐥
"㲔㦭㶂 㺞㦭㶂 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨㶂 㞒㦭㘠 㽨㖖㻐 㦭㽊㻐㖖䦬䓳㼒㺞䯯㼒㺞䌜㐥" 㕡㺞䲺 䦩㻐㻐㼒㺞䌜 䦬䓳㻐 䒉㽨䲺㞒 䒉㼒䦬㻐㖖㽨䒉䒉㞒 䦩䓳㽨䯯㼒㺞䌜 㽨䌜㽨㼒㺞䦩䦬 䓳㼒㳔㶂 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 䎲㘠㼒㧭䯯䒉㞒 㼒㺞䦬㻐㖖㽊㻐㺞㻐䲺 䋜㻐㞮㦭㖖㻐 䦩䓳㻐 㧭㦭㘠䒉䲺 㖖㘠㺞 㦭㞮㞮 㷲㼒䦬䓳 䓳㻐㖖 䦬䓳㦭㘠䌜䓳䦬䦩㶂 㧭䒉㽨㖖㼒㞮㞒㼒㺞䌜㶂 "㱀 䓳㽨㽊㻐 㢕㘠䦩䦬 㺞㦭䦬 䦬㦭㘠㧭䓳㻐䲺 㞒㦭㘠㖖 䲺㽨㘠䌜䓳䦬㻐㖖 㞒㻐䦬䱹 㑇䓳㻐㖖㻐 㼒䦩 㺞㦭䦬䓳㼒㺞䌜 㷲㖖㦭㺞䌜 㷲㼒䦬䓳 䓳㻐㖖䱹"
"㐥㐥㐥㐥㐥"
㕡㺞䲺 䦬䓳㻐㺞㶂 㦭㺞㧭㻐 䦩䓳㻐 㞮㼒㺞㽨䒉䒉㞒 㘠㺞䲺㻐㖖䦩䦬㦭㦭䲺 䦬䓳㽨䦬 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 㷲㽨䦩 㺞㦭䦬 䌜㦭㼒㺞䌜 䦬㦭 㽨䲺䲺 㽨㺞㞒䦬䓳㼒㺞䌜㶂 䦩䓳㻐 㞮㦭䒉䒉㦭㷲㻐䲺 㘠䫶 㷲㼒䦬䓳 㽨 䌜㖖㻐㽨䦬㶂 㼒㺞㧭㖖㻐䲺㘠䒉㦭㘠䦩 䒉㦭㦭䯯㶂 䋜䒉㘠㖖䦬㼒㺞䌜 㦭㘠䦬㶂
"䪍䓳㽨䦬䞓 㖙㦭㘠 㳔㻐㽨㺞 䦬㦭 䦩㻐㻐 䦩䓳㻐 㼒䦩 㘠㺞䋜㖖㦭䯯㻐㺞䞓 䪍䓳㞒䞓 㖙㦭㘠 䲺㦭㺞'䦬 㻐㽊㻐㺞 䒉㽨㞒 㞒㦭㘠㖖 䓳㽨㺞䲺䦩 㦭㞮㞮 䦬䓳㦭䦩㻐 㳔㽨㼒䲺䦩㶂 䦬㽨䯯㼒㺞䌜 䦬䓳㻐㳔 㻐㽊㻐㖖㞒 㧭䓳㽨㺞㧭㻐 㞒㦭㘠 䌜㻐䦬䱹 㒀㦭 䓳㦭㷲 㧭㽨㺞 㳔㞒 䲺㽨㘠䌜䓳䦬㻐㖖 䦩䦬㼒䒉䒉 䋜㻐 㽨 㽊㼒㖖䌜㼒㺞… 㼒䦬'䦩 䋜㻐㻐㺞 䦩㦭 䒉㦭㺞䌜㐥 㩩㼒䲺 䙞㽨㳔㻐䒉㼒㽨 䲺㦭 㽨㺞㞒䦬䓳㼒㺞䌜䞓"
㱀㺞 䦬䓳㼒䦩 㼒㺞䦩䦬㽨㺞㧭㻐㶂 䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨 㽨㧭䦬㻐䲺 㽊㻐㖖㞒 㳔㘠㧭䓳 䒉㼒䯯㻐 㽨 㷲㦭㳔㽨㺞 㦭㞮 䓳㻐㖖 䦬㼒㳔㻐㴿 㷲䓳㻐㺞㻐㽊㻐㖖 㽨 䫶㖖㦭䋜䒉㻐㳔 㽨㖖㦭䦩㻐 㼒㺞 䦬䓳㻐 㞮㽨㳔㼒䒉㞒㶂 䦬䓳㻐 㞮㻐㳔㽨䒉㻐 㷲㽨䦩 㘠㺞㼒䒉㽨䦬㻐㖖㽨䒉䒉㞒 䓳㻐䒉䲺 㖖㻐䦩䫶㦭㺞䦩㼒䋜䒉㻐 㞮㦭㖖 㼒䦬㐥
㒀㦭 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 㦭㺞䒉㞒 㺞㻐㻐䲺㻐䲺 䦬㦭 䦩㽨㞒 䦬䓳㻐 㷲㦭㖖䲺 㽨㺞䲺 䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨 㷲㽨䦩 㖖㻐㽨䲺㞒 䦬㦭 䫶㻐㖖䦩㦭㺞㽨䒉䒉㞒 䦩䦬㖖㽨㼒䌜䓳䦬㻐㺞 䓳㻐㖖 䲺㽨㘠䌜䓳䦬㻐㖖 㦭㘠䦬㐥
㱀㺞䲺㻐㻐䲺㶂 䦬䓳㻐 䦬㷲㦭 䦩㼒䲺㻐䦩 䓳㽨䲺 䦩㼒䌜㺞㻐䲺 㽨 㧭㦭㺞䦬㖖㽨㧭䦬 㦭㞮 㞮㦭㘠㖖 㞒㻐㽨㖖䦩 㽨㺞䲺 㼒㞮 䙞㽨㳔㻐䒉㼒㽨 㷲㽨㺞䦬㻐䲺 䦬㦭 䋜㖖㻐㽨䯯 㽨㷲㽨㞒 㞮㖖㦭㳔 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 㽨㞮䦬㻐㖖 䦬䓳㽨䦬㶂 㼒䦬 㷲㦭㘠䒉䲺 䋜㻐 㞮㽨㖖 㻐㽨䦩㼒㻐㖖 㞮㦭㖖 䦬䓳㻐 㞒㦭㘠㺞䌜 䌜㼒㖖䒉 䦬㦭 䌜㻐䦬 㽨 䌜㦭㦭䲺㶂 㖖㻐䫶㘠䦬㽨䋜䒉㻐 䓳㘠䦩䋜㽨㺞䲺 㼒㞮 䦩䓳㻐 㷲㽨䦩 䦩䦬㼒䒉䒉 㧭䓳㽨䦩䦬㻐 㽨㺞䲺 䫶㘠㖖㻐㐥
"㖎㒀㺞㦭㖖䦬㖎㶂 㷲䓳㽨䦬 㞮㦭㦭䒉㼒䦩䓳㺞㻐䦩䦩㐥" 㱀䦬 㷲㽨䦩 䦬㦭㦭 䋜㽨䲺 䦬䓳㻐 㳔㦭䦬䓳㻐㖖 㼒㺞䦩䦬㽨㺞䦬䒉㞒 䲺㼒䦩㖖㻐䌜㽨㖖䲺㻐䲺 䦬䓳㼒䦩 䫶㦭㼒㺞䦬 㧭㦭㳔䫶䒉㻐䦬㻐䒉㞒㶂 㼒㳔䫶㻐㖖㼒㦭㘠䦩䒉㞒 䦩㷲㼒㺞䌜㼒㺞䌜 䓳㻐㖖 䓳㽨㺞䲺䦩㶂 㽨㺞䲺 䦩㺞㽨㖖䒉㼒㺞䌜㶂
䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨'䦩 㻐㞒㻐䦩 䲺㼒㳔㳔㻐䲺 㷲䓳㼒䒉㻐 㽊㦭㼒㧭㻐 䋜㻐㧭㽨㳔㻐 䋜㦭䦬䓳 㖖㘠㻐㞮㘠䒉 㽨㺞䲺 㽨㺞䌜㖖㞒㴿 㞮㻐㻐䒉㼒㺞䌜 䦩䓳㻐 䓳㽨䲺 䋜㻐㻐㺞 䦬㦭㦭 䦩㦭㞮䦬 㦭㺞 䓳㻐㖖 㞒㦭㘠㺞䌜㻐䦩䦬 䲺㽨㘠䌜䓳䦬㻐㖖㐥
㬵㘠䦬 㽨䦬 䦬䓳㻐 㻐㺞䲺 㦭㞮 䦬䓳㻐 䲺㽨㞒㶂 䦬䓳㽨䦬 㷲㽨䦩 䲺㦭㺞㻐 㦭㺞䒉㞒 䲺㘠㻐 䦬㦭 䦬䓳㻐 㧭㼒㖖㧭㘠㳔䦩䦬㽨㺞㧭㻐䦩 㦭㞮 䦬䓳㻐 䦬㼒㳔㻐㴿 䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨 㽨㺞䲺 䓳㻐㖖 㞮㽨㳔㼒䒉㞒'䦩 䒉㽨㺞䲺䦩 䓳㽨䲺 䋜㻐㻐㺞 㧭㦭㺞䎲㘠㻐㖖㻐䲺 㽨㺞䲺 㻐㽊㻐㖖㞒㦭㺞㻐 㷲㽨䦩 䫶㽨㺞㼒㧭䯯㼒㺞䌜㶂 䦩㦭 䦬䓳㻐 㳔㦭䦬䓳㻐㖖 䦩㻐㺞䦩㼒䋜䒉㞒 䲺㼒䲺 㺞㦭䦬 㽨㧭䦬 䦬㦭㦭 䓳㽨㖖䦩䓳䒉㞒 㦭㺞 䓳㻐㖖 㧭䓳㼒䒉䲺㐥
㕡㺞䲺 䦬㦭 䋜㻐 㞮㽨㼒㖖㶂 䦩䓳㻐 䓳㽨䲺 䦬㦭 䋜㻐 䒉㼒䯯㻐 䦬䓳㼒䦩 䦬㦭 䯯㻐㻐䫶 䦩㦭 㳔㽨㺞㞒 㦭㞮 䓳㻐㖖 㧭䓳㼒䒉䲺㖖㻐㺞 㼒㺞 䒉㼒㺞㻐㐥
㕡㺞䲺 䦬䓳㼒䦩 䦩䦬㖖㼒㧭䦬㺞㻐䦩䦩 䦩㦭㦭㺞 㳔㦭㽊㻐䲺 㦭㽊㻐㖖 䦬㦭 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 䦬㦭㦭㶂 㽨䦩 䦩㻐㺞䦩㼒㺞䌜 㽨 䌜㖖㻐㽨䦬 䌜䒉㽨㖖㻐㶂 䓳㻐 䦩㦭㦭㺞 䓳㻐㽨㖖䲺 㽨 䓳㻐㽨㽊㞒 㽨㺞㺞㦭㘠㺞㧭㻐㖖㶂
"㐥㐥㐥㐥㐥" 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 㦭㺞䒉㞒 䫶㘠㖖䦩㻐䲺 䓳㼒䦩 䒉㼒䫶䦩 㼒㺞 䌜㖖㻐㽨䦬 㽨㳔㘠䦩㻐㳔㻐㺞䦬 㽨䦬 䦬䓳㻐 䦬䓳㖖㻐㽨䦬㶂 䯯㺞㦭㷲㼒㺞䌜 䦬䓳㻐 㷲㦭㖖䲺䦩 㷲㻐㖖㻐 㖖㻐㽨䒉䒉㞒 䒉㽨㧭㻐䲺 㷲㼒䦬䓳 䒉㦭㽊㻐㐥
㖘㻐 䲺㼒䲺 㺞㦭䦬 䋜㻐䒉㼒㻐㽊㻐 䦩㦭㳔㻐䓳㦭㷲 㽨䦩 䦩䓳㖖㻐㷲䲺 㽨㺞䲺 㞮㦭㖖㻐䦩㻐㻐㼒㺞䌜 㽨䦩 䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨 㷲㦭㘠䒉䲺 㧭㦭㺞㽊㻐㺞㼒㻐㺞䦬䒉㞒 㞮㦭㖖䌜㻐䦬 䦬䓳㻐 㽨䌜㖖㻐㻐㳔㻐㺞䦬㐥 䩵㻐㖖䓳㽨䫶䦩 䦩䓳㻐 㳔㼒䌜䓳䦬 䓳㽨㽊㻐 䦬㖖㘠䒉㞒 㧭㦭㺞䦩㼒䲺㻐㖖㻐䲺 䦬䓳㻐 㧭㦭㺞䦬㖖㽨㧭䦬 㼒㞮 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 㷲㽨䦩 㺞㦭䦬 㽨 㺞㦭䦬 䦩㦭 䌜㦭㦭䲺 㳔㽨䦬㧭䓳 㞮㦭㖖 䓳㻐㖖 䲺㽨㘠䌜䓳䦬㻐㖖㐥
"㕡㺞䲺 䦩䦬㦭䫶 䦩㽨㞒㼒㺞䌜 䙞㽨㳔㻐䒉㼒㽨 㼒䦩 㞒㦭㘠㺞䌜㐥 㱀 㽨䒉㖖㻐㽨䲺㞒 䓳㽨䲺 䦬䓳㖖㻐㻐 䯯㼒䲺䦩 䋜㞒 䓳㻐㖖 㽨䌜㻐… 䦩䓳㻐 㼒䦩 䫶䒉㻐㺞䦬㞒 㽨䲺㘠䒉䦬㐥
㱀䦬 㼒䦩 㞒㦭㘠 䋜㖖㽨䦬 㷲䓳㦭 䓳㽨䦩 㽨 䫶㖖㻐㞮㻐㖖㻐㺞㧭㻐 㞮㦭㖖 㦭䒉䲺 䓳㽨䌜䦩㐥"
"㐥㐥㐥㐥㐥" 䪍䓳㼒䒉㻐 䦬䓳㻐 㳔㽨㺞 㦭㺞㧭㻐 㽨䌜㽨㼒㺞 䯯㻐䫶䦬 䦬䓳㽨䦬 䦩㽨㳔㻐 㽨㳔㘠䦩㻐䲺 䒉㦭㦭䯯㶂 㺞㦭䦬 㷲㼒䒉䒉㼒㺞䌜 䦬㦭 㽨㖖䌜㘠㻐 㽨䋜㦭㘠䦬 䦬䓳㼒䦩 䦬㦭䫶㼒㧭㐥 㖘㻐 䯯㺞㻐㷲 㞮㦭㖖 䦬䓳㻐 㧭㘠㖖㖖㻐㺞䦬 䫶㻐㖖㼒㦭䲺㶂 㻐㼒䌜䓳䦬㻐㻐㺞 㞒㻐㽨㖖䦩 㷲㽨䦩 㼒㺞䲺㻐㻐䲺 㧭㦭㺞䦩㼒䲺㻐㖖㻐䲺 㽨 䋜㼒䦬 㦭䒉䲺㶂 㻐㽊㻐㺞 䋜㞒 㺞㦭䋜䒉㻐 䦩䦬㽨㺞䲺㽨㖖䲺䦩㐥
㒀㦭 㼒㞮 䓳㻐 㧭䒉㽨㼒㳔㻐䲺 䓳㻐 㷲㽨䦩 㷲㽨㼒䦬㼒㺞䌜 㞮㦭㖖 䦬䓳㻐 䫶㖖㼒㺞㧭㻐䦩䦩 䦬㦭 '㧭㦭㳔㻐 㦭㞮 㽨䌜㻐'㶂 䦬䓳㻐㖖㻐 㷲㽨䦩 㽨 䌜㦭㦭䲺 䫶㦭䦩䦩㼒䋜㼒䒉㼒䦬㞒 䦬䓳㽨䦬 㼒䦬 㳔㼒䌜䓳䦬 䋜㻐 㳔㼒䦩㧭㦭㺞䦩䦬㖖㘠㻐䲺 䋜㞒 䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨 㽨䦩 䦬䓳㻐 㳔㽨㺞 䦩㘠䋜䦬䒉㞒 㖖㻐㢕㻐㧭䦬㼒㺞䌜 䓳㻐㖖 䲺㽨㘠䌜䓳䦬㻐㖖㐥
"㖘㳔㳔㳔㳔… 㱀 䓳㦭䫶㻐 㞒㦭㘠 㷲㼒䒉䒉 㺞㦭䦬 㳔㼒㺞䲺 㳔㻐 䦩㽨㞒㼒㺞䌜㶂 䋜㘠䦬 㺞㦭㺞㻐 㦭㞮 㞒㦭㘠㖖 䲺㽨㘠䌜䓳䦬㻐㖖䦩 㽨㖖㻐 㽨䦩 䋜㻐㽨㘠䦬㼒㞮㘠䒉 㽨䦩 㞒㦭㘠 㳔㞒 䒉㽨䲺㞒㐥 㧈㦭䦬䓳㻐㖖 䓋㽨㼒㽨 㖖㻐㽨䒉䒉㞒 䌜㽨㽊㻐 㞒㦭㘠 㽨䒉䒉 䦬䓳㻐 䋜㻐㽨㘠䦬㞒 㼒㺞 䦬䓳㻐 㷲㦭㖖䒉䲺 㽨㺞䲺 㺞㦭㺞㻐 㦭䦬䓳㻐㖖… 㖎㧈㳔㳔㳔㖎䱹"
㕡㺞䲺 䦬䓳㻐㺞 㽨䦩 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 㦭㺞㧭㻐 㽨䌜㽨㼒㺞 䦩㳔㽨䦩䓳㻐䲺 㽨䌜㽨㼒㺞䦩䦬 䦬䓳㦭䦩㻐 㧭䓳㻐㻐㖖㞒 䒉㼒䫶䦩㶂 䆳㽨䲺㞒 䩵㽨㖖䦬䓳㼒㽨'䦩 㻐㞒㻐䦩 䎲㘠㼒㧭䯯䒉㞒 㷲㼒䲺㻐㺞㻐䲺 㽨㺞䲺 䦩䓳㻐 䒉㻐䦬 㦭㘠䦬 㽨 䦩㳔㽨䒉䒉 㳔㦭㽨㺞㐥
㱀㺞 㞮㽨㧭䦬㶂 㽨 䫶㽨㖖䦬 㦭㞮 䓳㻐㖖 㞮㻐䒉䦬 㻐㨎䦬㖖㻐㳔㻐䒉㞒 㞮䒉㽨䦬䦬㻐㖖㻐䲺㐥
㑇䓳㻐 㞮㽨㧭䦬 䦬䓳㽨䦬 䦬䓳㻐 㳔㽨㺞 䦩㽨㼒䲺 䦩䓳㻐 㷲㽨䦩 㳔㦭㖖㻐 䋜㻐㽨㘠䦬㼒㞮㘠䒉㶂 㻐㽊㻐㺞 㽨䦬 䦬䓳㼒䦩 㽨䌜㻐㶂 㻐㽊㻐㺞 㷲䓳㻐㺞 䋜㻐㼒㺞䌜 㧭㦭㳔䫶㽨㖖㻐䲺 䦬㦭 䓳㻐㖖 䲺㽨㘠䌜䓳䦬㻐㖖㶂 㳔㽨䲺㻐 䦬䓳㻐 䒉㽨䲺㞒 㼒㺞䦩䦬㼒㺞㧭䦬㼒㽊㻐䒉㞒 㽊㻐㖖㞒 䓳㽨䫶䫶㞒㶂
㑇䓳㘠䦩 㽨䦩 㕡䒉㻐㨎㽨㺞䲺㻐㖖 䲺㻐㽊㦭㘠㖖㻐䲺 䓳㻐㖖 䦬㦭㺞䌜㘠㻐 㦭㺞㧭㻐 㳔㦭㖖㻐㶂 䦬䓳㻐 䒉㽨䲺㞒 㧭㦭㘠䒉䲺 㦭㺞䒉㞒 㖖㻐㧭㼒䫶㖖㦭㧭㽨䦬㻐㶂
"㕡䓳䓳䓳… 㳔㽨䦩䦬㻐㖖㶂 㞒㦭㘠 㽨㖖㻐 䦩㦭 䋜㽨䲺㐥 䰣䓳䓳䓳… 㞒㦭㘠 㷲㼒䒉䒉 䋜㻐 䦬䓳㻐 䲺㻐㽨䦬䓳 㦭㞮 㳔㻐㐥 㧈㳔㳔㳔…㐥 㳔㞒 䲺㽨㘠䌜䓳䦬㻐㖖䦩 㽨㖖㻐 㼒㺞䲺㻐㻐䲺… 㺞㦭䦬 㽨䦩 䫶㖖㻐䦬䦬㞒㐥 㑇䓳㻐㞒 䦩㻐㻐㳔 䦬㦭 䓳㽨㽊㻐 䌜㽨㼒㺞㻐䲺 䦬䓳㻐㼒㖖 㞮㽨䦬䓳㻐㖖'䦩 䦬㖖㽨㼒䦬䦩㐥 䰣䓳䓳䓳…㐥 㱀 㽨㳔 䦩㘠㧭䓳 㽨 䋜㽨䲺 㷲㦭㳔㽨㺞㐥 㧈㳔㳔㳔… 䓳㦭㷲 㧭㽨㺞 㱀 䋜㻐 䲺㦭㼒㺞䌜 䦬䓳㼒䦩… 㽨䓳䓳䓳…䦩㦭 䌜㦭㦭䲺䱹 㧈㦭㖖㻐㶂 䯯㼒䦩䦩 㳔㻐 㳔㦭㖖㻐䱹"
䆳㻐䦬 㘠䦩 䦩㽨㞒 㺞㦭 䦬㦭 䫶㼒㖖㽨㧭㞒䱹 㩩㦭㺞'䦬 䦬㽨䯯㻐 䫶㽨㖖䦬 㼒㺞 㽨 㧭㖖㼒㳔㻐䱹 㩩㦭㺞'䦬 䫶㽨䦬㖖㦭㺞㼒䕘㻐 䦬䓳㼒㻐㽊㻐䦩䱹
䩵䒉㻐㽨䦩㻐 㧭㦭㳔㻐 㖘㻐㖖㻐䱹
䓳䦬䦬䫶䦩䫇䪙䪙㷲㷲㷲㐥㷲㻐䋜㺞㦭㽊㻐䒉㐥㐥㧭㦭㳔䪙䋜㦭㦭䯯䪙䓳㻐㖖㽨䒉䲺㴿㦭㞮㴿䦩䦬㻐㻐䒉_㐷㲪䵅䐎䐎㣍㻠䡫䑥䋂㣍䋂䐎㲪㻠䋂㣍
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