His cloak was a dramatic emerald with gold and purple glazing the edges, worn over a plain black smock, ballooning black pants, and sturdy folded-over boots. His beard was long and white with braids and beads, and his belt held all his most valuable possessions: tankard, pistol, dagger, coin purse.
He held her jeweled hand lightly, so as not to offend her. Her clothes, from the blouse to the corset to the long skirt, were all black, the kind of black that held mystic beauty and power. Her belt held the same tools as his.
She turned, and told me, the visitor, the observer, "The best way to a man's heart is between his second and third ribs."
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