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Chapter 39: Resentment.
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Chapter 41: A shame.
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... stance could buy. Not the sterile silence of palace corridors, where even the air felt supervised, but personal.
He sat at the small dining table by the window, one leg crossed over the other, jacket tossed aside with uncharacteristic carelessness. A bottle of chilled white wine stood open beside him. One glass, half-full, already in his hand. Across from it, a plate of bread and cheese he had arranged out of habit rather than appetite.
He took a sip and grimaced faintly.
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