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... tiers fussed over lace napkins and ether-glazed pastries. But under that mask, his mind roared with fury.
Someone had dared to aim not at him, not even at Damian, but at a five-month-old child who still couldn't hold his own head steady. That arrogance, that cowardice, had torn straight through the promise he'd once made to Damian: that he would keep his hands clean, that his brilliance would build and not destroy. That the Emperor would not have to watch his mate carve through enemies t ...
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