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... endance was not optional. Silks in muted tones, bowed heads, controlled grief—an empire performing mourning.
And yet, beneath that discipline, Elara allowed herself something small. Petty. Almost childish.
Tradition demanded white chrysanthemums, symbols of solemn farewell. Instead, the palace gardens were stripped of them entirely. In their place bloomed waves of red and yellow lilies—vivid, almost intrusive against the somber drapery.
She announced, in a voice calm and ...
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