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... n. His movements were soundless, deliberate—the kind of presence that belonged to someone trained to remain unseen.

Landen.

His hood concealed most of his face, but his steel-gray eyes caught the moonlight. Clad in the Tempest Kingdom’s dark uniform, he stood with an air of quiet efficiency—neither hostile nor passive, just purely business.

"Lady Moonstone, greetings." His voice was calm, devoid of unnecessary emotion.

Mystica barely spared him a glance, waving of ...

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