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... ent me to negotiate terms of peace with you."

Ferald, continuing to sip his corn soup, didn't glance at Bosiden, and asked, "What are your lord's conditions?"

Bosiden responded with a rare, hearty smile,

"There are no conditions, Your Grace. We offer unconditional peace. After the negotiation, Your Grace will still be the lord of vast territories, and my lord will remain a humble friend."

Lanvin, still clad in his shining silver armor – which had seen little actio ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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