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... worn out. His visit to the Lyceum had taken an emotional toll; far more than he had expected. There was a final conversation he needed to have before tomorrow’s event, though with someone absent, meaning a letter would have to do. He could wait until tomorrow morning, probably, but it would feel rushed to do it before the Senate assembled, and today seemed a day for conversations of this nature. Thus, once Martel reached his quarters, he sat down at the desk made available to him and dipped his ...

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