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... bastian to get from the palace gates to my private chambers. And yet, those three minutes felt like eternity. I paced the living room like a madman—well, a well-dressed madman in ceremonial silk and finely polished boots, but a madman all the same. The air smelled of waxed wood, cold stone, and a trace of lavender—Natalie’s doing, no doubt. She always said I needed something calming in my space. I should’ve listened sooner.

Then the door flew open.

"Whoa." Sebastian’s voice rang ...

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