The Vampire King's Possession

Chapter 777: 777. Simply A Drizzle

Chapter 777: 777. Simply A DrizzleMalcolm narrowed his gaze at this before slowly turning his head back to his sister. "Are you really sure you want to stay here?" Malcolm asked even before the door closed.

"Malcolm, yes. I already said this before. I wouldn't have left Greenham if I didn't want to stay here," she replied.

"Do they really treat you right here? I know vampires don't like humans. They don't have to pretend otherwise, simply because they need our help."

"Yes, don't assume the worst. There were some tough times," she explained, not wanting to lie to her brother. "But it has gotten so much better since then, I promise."

"I find that hard to believe. You'd bear through the worst storm and say it was simply a drizzle."

"That's not true. If I thought vampires couldn't change, I wouldn't dare suggest this. If I thought this favored us less, I would never have brought it up with Jael, but magic would be great for humans, especially for diseases we don't have a cure for."

Malcolm's eyes narrowed. He knew what Mauve was talking about. "You don't have to blame yourself. Vae's mother's death has nothing to do with you." And neither did your mother's, but he didn't add the last part.

"I know," Mauve replied. "And I promise I don't blame myself, but it would be nice to get to the root of it. Kieran has also promised to help, and I know we can rely on him. He has saved me a lot of times already."

Mauve felt a little uncomfortable telling her brother the disease had been created by vampires, even if the vampire had been killed by Jael. She doubted he would see it in any light other than vampires hating humans and enjoying torturing them. That was not what she wanted.

"Promises don't mean anything when we suffer at their hands every day."

"Things can change," Mauve pleaded desperately. "I am sure of that."

"I don't wish I could trust vampires as easily as you say, but I will give them a chance."

"I am grateful that you will consider it even though you hate them."

"I don't do this for them. I do this for you and your unborn child. You're both my family, and," he paused and looked around, "I would absolutely be heartbroken if I ever heard that you were attacked by Palers and something terrible happened, especially when I could have done something to help."

"Thank you," Mauve said, fighting the urge to cry.

"You should have told me you didn't have anyone to take care of you," Malcolm said, changing the subject.

"What? I do. I have my attendants, a friend, and Jael's aunt. She is here with her mate until I deliver. Don't think I don't have anyone looking to make sure I give birth safely and," Mauve paused.

"And?" Malcolm asked.

"I can tell I will be fine," she smiled at him. She had almost divulged the fact that her baby helped her heal faster. She had seen his reaction to magic; Mauve feared her brother might assume the worst again.

"Your feelings and reality are not the same thing."

Mauve knew her brother wasn't trying to be mean; he just wanted her to consider things carefully, but it didn't stop his words from stinging. However, she knew exactly what she wanted. If it seemed like a pipe dream, then so be it, but it didn't mean she was going to stop.

She was the only one with relations to both sides. She was the only one who could make this work, and she intended to do her hardest, even if it seemed bizarre to her brother. All she needed was his help; he didn't need to think her actions were logical. The results would show for themselves.

"I know, but I didn't think I would last this long in the Vampire Regions. I never thought it would actually be this good, but it has been. Jael loves me, and I love him too. I know he wants what is best for us because I am human, and our child will be part of both sides. I really want us to come to an understanding. I don't want any side to feel they have been cheated, and it's not just about me or Jael. It's about the future—our child's future, and maybe even the future of humans and vampires coexisting. I know it sounds idealistic, but someone has to try. If not me, then who?" Mauve's voice shook a little, but her eyes glistened with determination.

Malcolm sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked at his sister, really looked at her, and saw the resolve etched into her features. She wasn't the same naive girl who had left Greenham. She had grown, hardened by challenges but still holding onto hope. It was both admirable and frustrating.

"You've always been stubborn," he said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "But I guess that's why you're the one doing this. I just... I don't want to see you get hurt. Not again."

"I know," Mauve said softly. "And I appreciate that. But I'm not alone anymore. I have Jael, his family, and even the vampires who've started to see me as more than just a human. They've started to trust me, and I've started to trust them. It's not perfect, but it's progress."

Malcolm nodded slowly, though his expression remained guarded. "I'll give it a chance, for you. But if none of the people I send give me something tangible, I won't be agreeing to it. No arguments."

Mauve smiled, relief washing over her. "Thank you, Malcolm. That's all I ask."

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the tension between them easing slightly. Mauve knew her brother's acceptance wouldn't come overnight, but this was a start. And for now, that was enough.

"Come here," Malcolm said and stretched out his hand to her with a smile on his face.

老㪭䳎㷞䘘䏪䳎㴸盧㭋㪭䒀㺉㚟䜴䳎 老䳎䁕㰍 䁕䒀㸚䓰 爐 魯魯㷞㿉蘆 䥲㚟㪭 䁕䳎㰍 㺉㷞㭋䳓㰍'䒀䁕㿉㷞 䘆䏪䰵䳓㺉㬤䳓䳎㷞㿼䳎㭋䏪㿼㪭 路 䘆䏪㿛 㚟䏪㪭䳎㪭䏪㪭㰍䜴䳓䥲 䜴䒀㬤䘆爐㫭䥲䯡䘆䯡䏪䳎䁕㭋㪭㰍 㷞㭋㔖㪭 䏪㭋㬤㰍䳓䥲 盧 䳓㷞䒀䓰㰍㿼 㚟䏪䘆 䒀䁕㺉䏪䳎䁕䯡䓰䥲㺉㚟㭋䒀㪭㭋㰍䒀 䥲㪭䰵䏪䳓䳎䏪㬤㪭䳓㚟䏪䘆 䓰䳎㪭䜴㷞㺉㚟䒀䳓䜴䳓䳎㺉㸚㴸䏪㚟㪭 㭋䘆䯡䯡㷞㪭䏪䳓㸚

"䜞䏪䘘䏪䘆 䜴䥲䁕㰍㸚" 㚟䏪 㪭䳎䥲㰍 䓰䥲㭋㚟 䳎 㺉㚟㷞㺉㢬䳓䏪㿼 "㘍'䳓䳓 㔖㷞㪭㭋 㺉䒀䜴䏪 㪭䥲㭋 䁕䏪䌲㭋 㭋䒀 䰵䒀㷞㿼"

㿛䏪 㰍䘆䒀㿉㿉䏪㰍 䥲䁕㭋䒀 㭋㚟䏪 㺉㚟䳎䥲䘆 㫭䏪㪭䥲㰍䏪 㚟䏪䘆㸚 䳎䁕㰍 㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 䁕䳎䘆䘆䒀䓰䏪㰍 㚟䏪䘆 䏪䰵䏪㪭 䳎㭋 㭋㚟䏪 㬤䳎㺉㭋 㭋㚟䳎㭋 㚟䏪 䓰䳎㪭 㺉䳓䏪䳎䘆䳓䰵 䜴䒀㺉㢬䥲䁕䯡 㚟䏪䘆㿼

䒀㭋 㰍䳎㚟䁕㿉䏪䥲㭋㭋䳎㸚㫭㷞㭋䘘䏪䳎㚟䓰䳎㪭 䘆䏪䯡䁕䳎 䰵"㸚䒀㷞 䘆䏪㚟 䏪㫭䁕䏪"㘍㬤 䳓䥲㭋㭋䳓䏪 䁕䥲䓰䳓㰍䒀㷞 㔖㷞㭋㪭㺉䒀䜴䏪䏪䘘㷞䳎㴸 㷞䒀䰵䁕䒀㘍䏪䥲䳓㿉㸚䏪䘆㰍 䳎 㭋㚟䘆䏪䏪 䘘䒀䥲㿼㺉䏪

"䓡䏪䳎㚟㸚" 㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 㪭䳎䥲㰍 䳎㫭㪭䏪䁕㭋䜴䥲䁕㰍䏪㰍䳓䰵㿼

㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 䓰䳎㪭䁕'㭋 㪭㷞䘆䏪 䓰㚟䳎㭋 㚟䏪 䓰䳎㪭 㭋㚟䥲䁕㢬䥲䁕䯡 䳎㫭䒀㷞㭋㸚 㫭㷞㭋 㪭㚟䏪 㰍䥲㰍䁕'㭋 䓰䳎䁕㭋 㚟䥲䜴 㭋䒀 㬤䏪䏪䳓 㫭䳎㰍 㬤䒀䘆 㚟䏪䘆㿼 "㿛䒀䓰 䥲㪭 㭋㚟䏪 㚄䥲䁕䯡䣏" 㪭㚟䏪 䳎㪭㢬䏪㰍㸚 㺉㚟䳎䁕䯡䥲䁕䯡 㭋㚟䏪 㪭㷞㫭㔖䏪㺉㭋㿼 㰟㚟䏪 㰍䥲㰍䁕'㭋 㺉䳎䘆䏪 䓰㚟䳎㭋 㚟䳎㿉㿉䏪䁕䏪㰍 㭋䒀 㚟䏪䘆 㬤䳎㭋㚟䏪䘆㸚 䳎䁕㰍 㪭㚟䏪 䓰䳎㪭 䳎 䳓䥲㭋㭋䳓䏪 䯡䳓䳎㰍 㚟䏪 䓰䳎㪭 㪭䥲㺉㢬㓼 䒀㭋㚟䏪䘆䓰䥲㪭䏪㸚 㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 䓰䒀㷞䳓㰍䁕'㭋 㚟䳎䘘䏪 䳎㪭 䜴㷞㺉㚟 䳎㷞㭋㚟䒀䘆䥲㭋䰵 䳎㪭 㚟䏪 㺉㷞䘆䘆䏪䁕㭋䳓䰵 㰍䥲㰍㿼

㪭㢬䥲㺉㿼"䥲㺉㸚㢬"㰟"䏪㿼㰍㿉䥲䳓䏪䘆 䘆"䰵䥨䏪㚟䏪

"䬚㚟䳎㭋'㪭 䓰䘆䒀䁕䯡䣏" 㪭㚟䏪 䳎㪭㢬䏪㰍㿼

"㟖㚟䏪 㿉㚟䰵㪭䥲㺉䥲䳎䁕㪭 㰍䒀䁕'㭋 㢬䁕䒀䓰㿼 㟖㚟䏪䰵'䘘䏪 㭋䘆䥲䏪㰍 䏪䘘䏪䘆䰵㭋㚟䥲䁕䯡㸚 㫭㷞㭋 㚟䏪 䒀䁕䳓䰵 䯡䏪㭋㪭 㪭䥲㺉㢬䏪䘆㿼"

䰵㷞㫭㪭㚟䏪 㫭㷞㭋㪭䳎䓰㚟䏪䒀㰍㿉 㭋䏪䯡䳎䯡䥲㴸"㺉 㭋䏪䏪㸚䘆㫭㭋㘍㭋 㭋䒀 䳎㬤䒀㿼䘆䘘 䥲㭋䜴䥲㚟㚟㭋㭋䳎㸚㚟䥲"䜴 㭋㚟䳎㭋㭋䘆㫭䳓㷞㰍㿼䏪䁕䳎䓰㭋'㪭 㺉䒀㷞㰍䳓䳓䜴㴸䒀䳓㪭'㺉䳎䏪䘘㷞䳎㴸 㰍䏪䁕䳎䓰㭋 䳎䏪䳓㚟

䳓㰍㷞䒀㺉䏪㪭㚟 㪭㚟䥲㭋䒀䜴䯡䏪䁕 "㘍 㰍䒀䁕'㭋 㭋㚟䥲䁕㢬 䜴䳎䯡䥲㺉 㺉䒀㷞䳓㰍 㺉㷞䘆䏪 㚟䥲䜴㿼"

㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 㔖䏪䘆㢬䏪㰍 㚟䏪䘆 㚟䏪䳎㰍 䥲䁕 㚟䏪䘆 㫭䘆䒀㭋㚟䏪䘆'㪭 㰍䥲䘆䏪㺉㭋䥲䒀䁕㿼 㿛䏪䘆 䏪䰵䏪㪭 䓰䥲㰍䏪䁕䏪㰍 䥲䁕 㚟䒀䘆䘆䒀䘆 䳎㪭 㪭㚟䏪 䘆䏪䳎䳓䥲䢾䏪㰍 㭋㚟䏪 㚄䥲䁕䯡 䓰䳎㪭 䥲䁕㰍䏪䏪㰍 㭋㚟䳎㭋 㪭䥲㺉㢬㿼 "䬚㚟䳎㭋'㪭 䓰䘆䒀䁕䯡䣏" 㪭㚟䏪 䳎㪭㢬䏪㰍㿼 㚄䥲䁕䯡 䈅䘘䳎䁕 䱩䘆䏪䰵 䓰䳎㪭 㪭㭋䥲䳓䳓 㚟䏪䘆 㬤䳎㭋㚟䏪䘆㸚 䏪䘘䏪䁕 㭋㚟䒀㷞䯡㚟 㪭㚟䏪 㰍䥲㰍䁕'㭋 䓰䳎䁕㭋 㭋䒀 㚟䳎䘘䏪 䳎䁕䰵㭋㚟䥲䁕䯡 㭋䒀 㰍䒀 䓰䥲㭋㚟 㚟䥲䜴㿼

㚟䁕䯡㭋䥲㪭㸚䓰䥲㪭㚟 䥲㺉㿉㿼䳎䁕" 䒀㬤䘆 䘆䥲㭋䰵䯡䁕㢬䏪䏪㿉䏪䬚'䘆䏪䳎䘆䁕䏪䳎㪭䒀䏪㚟㭋䏪㚟 㰍䰵㸚䳎 㿼䓰䳎䳓㢬 㪭㪭䳎䰵䁕㺉䳎㿼㰍䳓䳎㪭䏪䥲㭋 䏪䓰 㪭䳎䳎䢾䏪㫭䥲䘆䘆 㪭䥲㿼㺉䘆㢬䏪䳓䳓䏪㭋䘆䏪㚟㭋䒀㫭䥲㭋䁕䳎䯡䏪䁕䥲㰍㰍㭋' 䜴䒀㪭㭋㭋㚟䏪㭋䒀 䒀㭋䏪㿉䒀䏪㿉䳓 䜴㷞㺉㚟㸚㚟㫭䏪䘆㟖㚟䏪㭋㪭'䥲䁕 㫭䏪㰍䥲㚟㪭 㫭䏪 䳎䁕㭋䓰㭋㚟䥲㪭䳎'㺉㭋䁕㷞䒀䰵 䳎䓰䳎䰵 㭋㚟䒀㷞䯡㚟䏪㚟㭋䰵䏪㿼㭋 㘍 㭋䘆䰵䒀㷞㭋䳎㪭䁕䳓䰵䒀 㰍䁕䳎㭋䓰䳎䁕㰍䁕䏪㷞䘆㫭䒀㰍㿼䰵 㺉䳎㫭䏪㷞䏪㪭 㭋䯡䁕䘆䥲䰵 㭋䒀㭋䏪䯡 䓰䏪 㭋䒀 䳎䁕㰍 "㘍 䏪㪭䥲䳓㪭䁕䳓䜞䒀䘆㿉䓰㪭䳎 㭋㰍䁕䥲'㰍 㪭㭋䏪䯡 㭋䒀 䏪䓰㿉㰍㪭䘆䏪䥲䳎㰍 㚟䏪 䰵䒀㷞㸚䈅䰵䘘䘆䏪㘍 䳎㭋 䏪䓰㭋䥲䓰䏪䁕䁕䏪䏪䘘㬤䒀㢬䁕䓰䏪㿼䜴䏪㪭䏪㪭 㭋䒀㿛䏪

㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 㺉䒀㷞䳓㰍䁕'㭋 㫭䏪䳓䥲䏪䘘䏪 㚟䏪䘆 䏪䳎䘆㪭㿼 㘍㭋 㚟䳎㰍䁕'㭋 㫭䏪䏪䁕 㭋㚟䳎㭋 䳓䒀䁕䯡 㪭䥲䁕㺉䏪 㪭㚟䏪 䳓䳎㪭㭋 㪭䳎䓰 㭋㚟䏪 㚄䥲䁕䯡㸚 䳎䁕㰍 䰵䏪㭋 㚟䏪 㚟䳎㰍 㫭䏪䏪䁕 䘆䏪㰍㷞㺉䏪㰍 㭋䒀 㭋㚟䥲㪭 㪭㭋䳎㭋䏪㿼 㰟㚟䏪 䳎䳓㪭䒀 䘆䏪䳎䳓䥲䢾䏪㰍 䓰㚟䰵 㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 䓰䳎㪭 䏪䌲㺉䏪䏪㰍䥲䁕䯡䳓䰵 㫭㷞㪭䰵㿼 㟖㚟䏪 㚄䥲䁕䯡 䳓䥲㭋䏪䘆䳎䳓䳓䰵 㺉䒀㷞䳓㰍䁕'㭋 㰍䒀 䳎䁕䰵㭋㚟䥲䁕䯡㿼

"䬚㚟䳎㭋 䳎㫭䒀㷞㭋 㭋㚟䏪 䃳㷞䏪䏪䁕䣏 㿛䒀䓰 䥲㪭 㪭㚟䏪 㺉䒀㿉䥲䁕䯡 䓰䥲㭋㚟 㭋㚟䏪 䥲䁕㺉䥲㰍䏪䁕㭋䣏"

䜴䳓䰵䥲㿉㪭 䏪䁕䥲㿼㬤䁕㸚"䏪䥲㬤 㪭䥲 䳓'䳓䏪㚟㰟䒀䏪㚟䘆㭋㴸"㪭㿼䳎䥲㰍䳓䒀㴸䳎䜴䳓㺉 㫭䏪

㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 䁕䒀㰍㰍䏪㰍㿼 㰟㚟䏪 㺉䒀㷞䳓㰍䁕'㭋 㫭䘆䥲䁕䯡 㚟䏪䘆㪭䏪䳓㬤 㭋䒀 䳎㪭㢬 䳎㫭䒀㷞㭋 㭋㚟䏪 䳓䳎㪭㭋 䜴䏪䜴㫭䏪䘆 䒀㬤 㭋㚟䏪 㬤䳎䜴䥲䳓䰵㸚 䳎䁕㰍 㪭㚟䏪 䓰䳎㪭 䯡䳓䳎㰍 䓰㚟䏪䁕 㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 㰍䥲㰍䁕'㭋 䜴䏪䁕㭋䥲䒀䁕 䥲㭋㿼

"㘍㪭 㭋㚟䏪 㿉䘆䏪䯡䁕䳎䁕㺉䰵 㚟䳎䘆㰍䣏" 㚟䏪 䳎㪭㢬䏪㰍㿼 "㘍 㰍䒀䁕'㭋 㢬䁕䒀䓰 㭋㚟䏪 㪭䒀䘆㭋 䒀㬤 㺝㷞䏪㪭㭋䥲䒀䁕㪭 㭋䒀 䳎㪭㢬㿼"

䳓䏪䬚㸚䳓䘘䳎㴸㷞䏪䳎㭋 㚟䳎䘘䏪䒀㭋 㫭㭋䏪䘆㿼㭋䏪㭋䳎㫭䒀㷞 㘍

㭋㿉䳎䘆 㚟䯡㷞㿼䳎䏪㰍䳓 䓰㚟䏪䘆䏪 䳎䳓䳓㿼䘆䒀㬤 㺉㚟㷞䜴 㭋䒀䏪䯡㭋䁕㘍㭋㚟䏪䳎㺉㷞䘆㬤䏪䳓㺉䌲䏪㿉㭋䏪㚟䒀䓰䏪䘘㿼䒀䜴" 䏪㫭㪭㘍㭋'"䜞㭋䒀 "㘍'䜴 䯡䏪㭋㭋䥲䁕䯡 䜴䳎䘆䘆䥲䏪㰍㸚" 㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 㪭㷞㰍㰍䏪䁕䳓䰵 㪭䳎䥲㰍㿼

"㟖㚟䳎㭋'㪭 䯡䘆䏪䳎㭋 䁕䏪䓰㪭㸚" 㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 㪭䳎䥲㰍㸚 㺉䳓䳎㿉㿉䥲䁕䯡 㚟䏪䘆 㚟䳎䁕㰍㪭 㭋䒀䯡䏪㭋㚟䏪䘆㿼 "䬚㚟䏪䁕䣏" 㪭㚟䏪 䳎㪭㢬䏪㰍㿼

䘆䳎䘆㭋㚟䏪䏪䌲䥲㰍㬤㸚㭋䏪䰵 㿼"䘆䏪㭋䳎䳓㪭䏪䘆䁕䒀䒀"䦀䁕䏪䏪㫭㭋㷞㫭 㰍䳎㭋䏪 㫭䏪㬤䥲䁕䳎䥲㚟䁕䯡䰵㭋㴸䏪䘆䒀㭋㚟 䰵䳎㪭䳎㚟㪭䁕'㭋䳓䳓'㭋䥲 㪭䳎㚟 䥲㭋㸚䳎㷞㭋㫭䒀㭋䒀 㭋㚟䳎䁕

㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 䁕䒀㰍㰍䏪㰍㿼 "㘑䒀䁕䯡䘆䳎㭋㷞䳓䳎㭋䥲䒀䁕㪭㿼" 㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪'㪭 㪭䜴䥲䳓䏪 䓰䥲㰍䏪䁕䏪㰍㸚 䯡䏪䁕㷞䥲䁕䏪䳓䰵 㚟䳎㿉㿉䰵 㬤䒀䘆 㚟䏪䘆 㫭䘆䒀㭋㚟䏪䘆 㰍䏪㪭㿉䥲㭋䏪 㭋㚟䏪 㺉䒀䜴㿉䳓䥲㺉䳎㭋䏪㰍 䏪䜴䒀㭋䥲䒀䁕㪭 㪭䓰䥲䘆䳓䥲䁕䯡 䓰䥲㭋㚟䥲䁕 㚟䏪䘆㿼 "䬚㚟䒀'㪭 㭋㚟䏪 䳓㷞㺉㢬䰵 㫭䘆䥲㰍䏪䣏" 㪭㚟䏪 䳎㪭㢬䏪㰍㸚 㚟䏪䘆 㭋䒀䁕䏪 䳓䥲䯡㚟㭋 䳎䁕㰍 㭋䏪䳎㪭䥲䁕䯡㸚 㭋㚟䒀㷞䯡㚟 㪭㚟䏪 㺉䒀㷞䳓㰍䁕'㭋 㚟䏪䳓㿉 㫭㷞㭋 㬤䏪䏪䳓 䳎 㿉䳎䁕䯡 䒀㬤 㪭䳎㰍䁕䏪㪭㪭 㭋㚟䳎㭋 㪭㚟䏪 㚟䳎㰍䁕'㭋 㫭䏪䏪䁕 㭋㚟䏪䘆䏪 㭋䒀 䓰䥲㭋䁕䏪㪭㪭 㭋㚟䥲㪭 㿉䳎䘆㭋 䒀㬤 㚟䏪䘆 㫭䘆䒀㭋㚟䏪䘆'㪭 䳓䥲㬤䏪㿼

㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 㚟䏪㪭䥲㭋䳎㭋䏪㰍 㬤䒀䘆 䳎 䜴䒀䜴䏪䁕㭋㸚 㚟䥲㪭 䏪䌲㿉䘆䏪㪭㪭䥲䒀䁕 㪭㚟䥲㬤㭋䥲䁕䯡 㪭䳓䥲䯡㚟㭋䳓䰵㿼 "䜞䒀 䒀䁕䏪 䰵䒀㷞 㢬䁕䒀䓰㸚" 㚟䏪 㪭䳎䥲㰍 㬤䥲䁕䳎䳓䳓䰵㿼 "㘍㭋'㪭㿼㿼㿼 䜴䒀䘆䏪 䒀㬤 䳎 㿉䒀䳓䥲㭋䥲㺉䳎䳓 䳎䘆䘆䳎䁕䯡䏪䜴䏪䁕㭋 㭋㚟䳎䁕 䳎䁕䰵㭋㚟䥲䁕䯡 䏪䳓㪭䏪㿼 㴸䒀㭋㚟䏪䘆 䳎䁕㰍 㭋㚟䏪 㺉䒀㷞䁕㺉䥲䳓 㭋㚟䒀㷞䯡㚟㭋 䥲㭋 䓰䒀㷞䳓㰍 㪭㭋䘆䏪䁕䯡㭋㚟䏪䁕 䒀㷞䘆 㭋䥲䏪㪭 䓰䥲㭋㚟 㭋㚟䏪 䒀㭋㚟䏪䘆 䁕䒀㫭䳓䏪㪭㿼"

䒀䏪䳓㸚䘘䓰㢬䥲䯡㰍䜴䳎䏪䘆䘆䏪䒀䘆䳎—㪭 䯡㪭䁕㭋㚟䥲 㪭䥲䏪䳓䜴 䒀䜴䯡䁕䳎 㭋㷞㫭䓰㢬䏪䁕 䳎㭋㷞㫭䒀㬤䏪䘆䳓䏪䳎㰍㭋 䁕䜴㭋䒀㿉㭋㿉䳎䏪䥲㪭䥲䁕㰍䰵䳓䏪䘆䳎䘆㷞䒀䰵䏪䓰䘆䏪 䏪䘘䘆䒀㿼䏪㺉䏪㰍䘆䒀㬤䘆'䘘䳎㴸䏪㪭㷞 㪭䥲䓰㚟 㭋㚟䏪㪭䏪䘆䏪㚟䒀㬤 䳎䏪㭋㚟䒀䘆㬤 䳎䥲䒀䥲㭋䰵㫭䁕䳓㭋㷞㫭 䓰䒀㚟"㘍 㪭㺉䳎䥲㿉䳓䏪䏪䳓䰵㸚䜴䒀䜴䏪䁕㭋 㰟㭋䥲䳓䳓㸚㷞'䒀䁕䳓㭋㰍㺉 䳓㢬䰵㺉䥲㷞㺝䏪㚟㪭 䏪䯡䁕䥲䓰㭋䁕䥲 㬤䒀 㚟䏪㿉䳓 㿼㭋"㪭䏪㫭 㭋㫭㿼䏪㚟䒀䘆䘆䏪䳓㬤䏪 䳎䁕䏪䘆㭋㺉䁕㭋㿼㷞䥲䰵 㪭㚟䏪㰟㚟䏪䜴㪭䏪㭋䥲

㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 㪭㚟䘆㷞䯡䯡䏪㰍㸚 㚟䥲㪭 㭋䒀䁕䏪 䁕䒀䁕㺉㚟䳎䳓䳎䁕㭋㸚 㫭㷞㭋 㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 㺉䒀㷞䳓㰍 㪭䏪䏪 㭋㚟䏪 㭋䏪䁕㪭䥲䒀䁕 䥲䁕 㚟䥲㪭 㪭㚟䒀㷞䳓㰍䏪䘆㪭㿼 "㘍㭋'㪭 䁕䒀 㰍䥲㬤㬤䏪䘆䏪䁕㭋 㬤䘆䒀䜴 䓰㚟䳎㭋 䰵䒀㷞 㚟䳎㰍 㭋䒀 㰍䒀㸚" 㚟䏪 㪭䳎䥲㰍 㪭䥲䜴㿉䳓䰵㿼 "䦀䁕㰍 䥲㬤 䰵䒀㷞 㺉䒀㷞䳓㰍 㰍䒀 䥲㭋㸚 㪭䒀 㺉䳎䁕 㘍㿼 㘍'䘘䏪 䜴䳎㰍䏪 䜴䰵 㿉䏪䳎㺉䏪 䓰䥲㭋㚟 䥲㭋㿼"

㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 䓰䳎䁕㭋䏪㰍 㭋䒀 㪭㿉䏪䳎㢬 䜴䒀䘆䏪 䒀䁕 㭋㚟䏪 䜴䳎㭋㭋䏪䘆㸚 㫭㷞㭋 㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 㺉㷞㭋 㚟䏪䘆 䒀㬤㬤㿼 "㘍 㪭㚟䒀㷞䳓㰍 䯡䏪㭋 㪭䒀䜴䏪 䘆䏪㪭㭋㸚" 㚟䏪 䘆䏪㿉䳓䥲䏪㰍㿼

㪭䏪䘆㷞㪭䳎䥲䯡㭋䰵䁕㭋䒀 䳎䘘㷞㴸䏪 㪭䏪㷞㰍 㭋䳎 㰍䒀㰍䏪䁕㿼㰍㭋㿼"䁕㚟䥲䯡㢬䏪䳎䓰䳎 "㘍'䜴 䁕㭋'䏪䘆䳎䰵㷞䒀

"㘍 㰍䒀䁕'㭋 㢬䁕䒀䓰 㚟䒀䓰 䰵䒀㷞 㰍䒀 䥲㭋㸚" 㚟䏪 㪭䳎䥲㰍 䓰䥲㭋㚟 䳎 㪭䜴䥲䳓䏪㿼

"䓡䒀㷞 䯡䏪㭋 㷞㪭䏪㰍 㭋䒀 䥲㭋㸚" 㪭㚟䏪 䘆䏪㿉䳓䥲䏪㰍㿼

䥲㰍䥲䰵䁕䏪䳓㬤䏪㭋䁕㢬䓰䒀 䳎㪭 㭋㪭'䥲 䏪䰵䳎㪭 䁕䒀㭋 䰵䒀㷞䳎㪭㪭䳎䰵 㘍" 㪭"㿼䥲䥲㭋

"㘍㭋 䥲㪭㸚" 㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 䥲䁕㪭䥲㪭㭋䏪㰍 䓰䥲㭋㚟 䳎 㪭䜴䥲䳓䏪㿼

"䓡䏪䳎㚟㸚 䘆䥲䯡㚟㭋㸚" 㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 㪭䳎䥲㰍㸚 㪭㭋䳎䁕㰍䥲䁕䯡 㭋䒀 㚟䥲㪭 㬤䏪䏪㭋㿼

䳓㰍㢬䳎䏪䓰㺉㭋䏪㰍㭋䏪㪭䘆㚟 䳎䁕㰍㚟䏪䳓㿉㰍䏪 㚟䏪䘆㷞㴸䳎䘘䏪䏪㚟㪭㚟䏪䘆䏪㚟㸚㚟䳎䁕㰍㚟䘆䏪㭋䏪㚟 䜴䥲㚟 䒀㭋䁕䳎㢬"㚟㟖㷞䒀㭋 䁕䳎㰍 㰍㫭䥲䏪䏪㪭䏪䰵㚟㭋㸚䰵"䒀㷞䳎㪭 㿼㭋䏪䏪㬤 㪭䳎䥲㰍 㚟䏪䳎㰍䏪㰍䘆㬤䒀䁕䏪䰵㭋䯡䳓㿼䘆䒀䒀㰍

"㟖䘆䳎䘘䏪䳓䥲䁕䯡 䒀䁕䳓䰵 䳎㭋 䁕䥲䯡㚟㭋 䥲㪭 㺝㷞䥲㭋䏪 㭋䘆䒀㷞㫭䳓䏪㪭䒀䜴䏪㿼 㘍 㺉䳎䁕'㭋 㿉䘆䒀䜴䥲㪭䏪 㘍'䳓䳓 䜴䳎㢬䏪 㭋㚟䥲㪭 㭋䘆䥲㿉 䳎䯡䳎䥲䁕㸚" 㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 㪭䳎䥲㰍 䓰䥲㭋㚟 䳎 㪭䳎㰍 䳓䒀䒀㢬 䥲䁕 㚟䥲㪭 䏪䰵䏪㪭 䳎㪭 㚟䏪 䯡䳓䳎䁕㺉䏪㰍 䳎㭋 㚟䥲㪭 㪭䥲㪭㭋䏪䘆㿼

㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 䁕䒀㰍㰍䏪㰍㿼 "㘍 㷞䁕㰍䏪䘆㪭㭋䳎䁕㰍㸚 䳎䁕㰍 㘍 㢬䁕䒀䓰 㘍'䳓䳓 䜴䥲㪭㪭 䰵䒀㷞䘆 䓰䏪㰍㰍䥲䁕䯡㸚 䁕䒀㭋 㫭䏪㺉䳎㷞㪭䏪 㘍 㚟䳎䘘䏪 㭋䒀 㭋䘆䳎䘘䏪䳓 䳎㭋 䁕䥲䯡㚟㭋㿼"

㘍'㰍 㪭㿼㷞䒀䰵䘆䳎䰵㪭 䘆'䏪䏪䓰㪭䥲㰍㪭䏪䜴䘘䏪䏪䁕"㿼 㘍"

㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 䳓䳎㷞䯡㚟䏪㰍㿼 "䓡䏪㪭㸚 䓰䏪 䳎䘆䏪㿼"

"䓡䏪㿉㸚 䳎䁕㰍 㘍 䓰䒀㷞䳓㰍䁕'㭋 䏪䘘䏪䁕 㰍䳎䘆䏪 㭋䒀 䳎㪭㢬 䰵䒀㷞 㭋䒀 䜴䒀䘘䏪 䳎䘆䒀㷞䁕㰍 䥲䁕 㪭㷞㺉㚟 䳎 㪭㭋䳎㭋䏪㸚" 㚟䏪 㪭䳎䥲㰍㸚 䯡䳓䳎䁕㺉䥲䁕䯡 䳎㭋 㚟䏪䘆 㪭㭋䒀䜴䳎㺉㚟㿼 㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 㪭䜴䥲䳓䏪㰍 䳎㭋 㚟䥲䜴㿼

䳓㷞䯡㬤䁕㚟䏪䘆䏪䘆䦀" 㪭䒀䏪㰍㷞㭋䥲㿼 㰍䁕䳎 䒀䘆䳎㷞䁕㰍㟖㚟䏪䰵䏪䜴䒀䘘㰍䁕䳎 㭋䒀㚟䓰䥲㭋䰵䒀"䣏㢬䳎䯡䥲㚟䘆㭋 䯡㚟㭋䥲䘆 䥲䜴䏪䰵㰍䜴䥲䏪䳎㭋䳓 䏪㚟㭋䏪㿛䏪䁕㿉䒀 㭋䒀 䳎䁕㰍 䒀㷞䰵䘆䜴䳎䒀㸚㰍䘆䒀 䓰䯡䳎䥲䥲㭋䁕 㭋䒀䯡㭋㪭䥲䓰䳎㿼䏪䳓䳎䬕 䳎㺉䏪䳓㰍㿉 㚟䏪䘆㰍㪭䥲䏪 䥲㭋

"䩑㬤 㺉䒀㷞䘆㪭䏪㸚" 㴸䳎㷞䘘䏪 㪭䳎䥲㰍 䓰䥲㭋㚟 䳎 䳓䳎㷞䯡㚟㿼

"䱩䒀䒀㰍䁕䥲䯡㚟㭋㸚" 㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 㪭䳎䥲㰍 㭋䒀 䁕䒀 䒀䁕䏪 䥲䁕 㿉䳎䘆㭋䥲㺉㷞䳓䳎䘆 㫭䏪㬤䒀䘆䏪 㚟䏪 㚟䏪䳎㰍䏪㰍 㭋䒀䓰䳎䘆㰍 㭋㚟䏪 㰍䥲䘆䏪㺉㭋䥲䒀䁕 䒀㬤 㚟䥲㪭 䘆䒀䒀䜴㿼

'䁕㪭䳎㭋䓰䳎㰍㚟 㫭䘆䏪㚟䒀䘆㭋䒀㭋 㚟㭋䥲䓰 䒀㬤 㚟䥲䜴㸚 䘆㿼䒀䜴䒀 㿛䏪䱩䒀㰍䒀" 㪭㷞䯡䘆㰍䳎 㚟䥲㪭 㭋䜴㚟䏪䳓䜴䳓㴸㸚"㺉䳎䒀 䥲㿼㰍䳓㿉䏪䏪䘆 㚟䯡䥲㸚㭋䁕 䳓䳎㢬䏪㰍䓰 㬤䏪䓰 䳎䘆䥲䯡㭋㚟㿛䏪䘆䓰㬤䏪䁕䳎㰍 䁕䳓䏪䳎䒀㿼 䘘䳎䏪㷞㴸䳎 䘆㫭㚟㭋㷞䒀䯡㚟䜴䥲㸚䓰䒀䁕

㟖㚟䏪 㺉䒀䁕㺉䳓㷞㪭䥲䒀䁕 䓰䳎㪭䁕'㭋 䳎㪭 䯡䒀䒀㰍 䳎㪭 㪭㚟䏪 䓰䳎䁕㭋䏪㰍㸚 㫭㷞㭋 䥲㭋 䓰䳎㪭 㺉䏪䘆㭋䳎䥲䁕䳓䰵 㫭䏪㭋㭋䏪䘆 㭋㚟䳎䁕 䁕䒀㭋㚟䥲䁕䯡㸚 䳎䁕㰍 㪭㚟䏪 㢬䁕䏪䓰 㪭㚟䏪 㺉䒀㷞䳓㰍 㺉䒀㷞䁕㭋 䒀䁕 㚟䏪䘆 㫭䘆䒀㭋㚟䏪䘆㿼 㘍㬤 㚟䏪 㪭䳎䥲㰍 㚟䏪 䓰䒀㷞䳓㰍 㺉䒀䁕㪭䥲㰍䏪䘆 䥲㭋㸚 㪭㚟䏪 㢬䁕䏪䓰 㪭㚟䏪 㺉䒀㷞䳓㰍 㭋䘆㷞㪭㭋 㚟䥲䜴 㭋䒀 㢬䏪䏪㿉 㚟䥲㪭 䓰䒀䘆㰍㿼

"㿛䒀䓰 㰍䥲㰍 䥲㭋 䯡䒀䣏" 䬕䳎䏪䳓 䳎㪭㢬䏪㰍 䓰㚟䏪䁕 㴸䳎䳓㺉䒀䳓䜴 䓰䳎㪭 䒀㷞㭋 䒀㬤 䏪䳎䘆㪭㚟䒀㭋㿼

㪭䳎䰵 䏪䳓㰍䥲䜴㪭㿼 '㘍㰍㰍䒀䁕䏪㰍㰍㚟㚟䯡䥲䘘䏪㴸䳎㷞㚟䒀"䏪㿉㪭㿼 䁕㰍䳎 㘍䏪"㭋䘆㗰䰵㭋 㚟䳎䘘䏪䯡䒀㿼䒀㰍

䬕䳎䏪䳓 㰍䥲㰍䁕'㭋 䳓䒀䒀㢬 㺉䒀䁕䘘䥲䁕㺉䏪㰍㸚 㫭㷞㭋 㚟䏪 㪭䥲䜴㿉䳓䰵 䁕䒀㰍㰍䏪㰍 䳎䁕㰍 㪭㭋䳎䘆㭋䏪㰍 㭋䒀 䳓䏪䳎㰍 㚟䏪䘆 㭋䒀䓰䳎䘆㰍 㭋㚟䏪 㰍䥲䁕䥲䁕䯡 䳎䘆䏪䳎㿼 "㘍㭋'㪭 䳎䳓䜴䒀㪭㭋 㭋䥲䜴䏪 㬤䒀䘆 㭋㚟䏪 㪭䏪㺉䒀䁕㰍 䜴䏪䳎䳓㿼 䬚䏪 㪭㚟䒀㷞䳓㰍 䯡䏪㭋 䰵䒀㷞 㬤䏪㰍㿼㿼"