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... rough my hands.
Meanwhile, Senior Delphine showed no signs of movement.
There was no need for it.
The target of my hatchet was not Senior Delphine, but the wineglass beside her.
The wineglass shattered and shards scattered through the air as a cracking noise resonated through the room. The scene resembled that of snowfall. The sweet scent of wine tickled the tip of my nose.
The wine spilled over the table, soaking it, and immediately dripped down the table’s edges.< ...
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