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The morning sun had long since climbed above the eastern peaks, its golden light spilling across the marble walls of the Norse Manor—but inside, silence still reigned. Turik’s commanders lay in a drunken stupor, sprawled across fur pelts and discarded armor. Even Turik himself was tangled in the linens beside Briella, their breaths slow and heavy with the weight of last night’s indulgence.

When Turik finally stirred, his bloodshot eyes blinked against the light filtering throug ...

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