#371617 - “Ovulation…” The maid whispered to herself. “Ovulating…” one of the hags whispered to the others, making them nod in approval. If this had been any other day, she should be busy embroider, perfecting the technique for when she would have to portray on a tapestry the deeds of her husband, the tale of her family; she should study herbs to tend to the indisposition of her future husband; she should be studying history to be able to teach her children; she should be praying in her spare time.
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