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... ll... for that awkwardly beautiful smile the Ironblooded King forced himself to wear.

But how did it come to this?

A sword was strapped to his neck, and shackles bound his feet. The heavy iron ball hanging from the sword’s tip was a torment in itself. His arm, which held the ball, felt as if it would tear off, but he could not let go. If he did, the weight that tore at his arm would shift to his neck.

A sharp needle pricked his back. The body reacted before the pain could ...

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