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... ugh the curtains like melted silver, slipping across tangled sheets and the outline of two bodies entwined in quiet exhaustion.

The storm that had raged in the hall hours before—blood, rage, judgment—was now nothing more than a memory painted in soft, sleeping breath.

Aiden stirred first. His eyes opened slowly, golden irises catching the dim glow as though reflecting embers beneath ash.

For a long while, he did not move. He simply watched her.

Lady Flora D. Leoni ...

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