It was dark, with only a dim torch in the hallway outside to shine a weak light through the thick, black iron bars. The cell was small, smaller than her bedroom at home. After a few moments, the nausea subsided, and she opened her eyes. Hannah closed her eyes, and breathed through her mouth. ‘This blowse must have a padlock on her arse, that she shites through her teeth.’ She fell to her hands and knees, gasping and retching. Wiping her mouth, she drew a ragged breath, but the smell was so unbearable that her throat closed over and her stomach heaved again. Her mouth filled with saliva, and she doubled over and threw up onto the grimy stone floor. The smell of urine, vomit, sweat and rotting flesh was overpowering, and she broke out in a hot, prickly sweat, despite the icy night. Hannah’s eyes stung and she felt a heavy churning in her belly. The turnkey pushed Hannah into the cell, and clanged the door shut behind her. For this reason, she was known as Scatterheart. She was very beautiful, but she was selfish and vain, and her heart was as fickle as the changing winds. O nce upon a time, there was a poor man who had a daughter.
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