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Chapter 88: The Weight of Gratitude
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Chapter 90: A Festival’s End
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... to the grim silence of the goblin-infested woods. I found myself holding the hand of a small, white-haired girl, a ridiculously large stuffed wyvern tucked under my other arm, while a discreet but watchful maid trailed a few paces behind us, her arms already laden with a small mountain of bags filled with sweets and trinkets we had acquired. The air, once thick with the scent of fear and despair, was now alive with the warm, inviting aroma of roasted nuts, spiced cider, and sweet, fried pastrie ...
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