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... y, the kitchen.
Caspian had completely outdone himself. He knew my soul belonged to the culinary arts, so he had built a sanctuary of pale stone and gleaming copper, complete with a massive, roaring hearth and a wall of glass windows that overlooked the sparkling ocean.
Right now, however, that beautiful kitchen was covered in crumpled pieces of parchment, spilled ink, and half-eaten test pastries.
I chewed on the end of my quill, my nine silver tails swishing in agitatio ...
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