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... he distant murmur of the castle waking with the morning sun.

The grand chamber, draped in silken sheets and adorned with gold accents, felt heavier than it should — as though the air itself mourned for the princess lying motionless in the bed.

By her side, Jean sat, her shoulders trembling, her tear-streaked face buried in the back of Salviana’s delicate hand. The lady-in-waiting’s sobs were broken, scattered like glass shards against the hush of the room.

"Oh, Salviana, ...

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