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... s right hand holding the scepter tightened slightly.


“Anya…” Ivan whispered the name.


There were complicated emotions in his eyes.


Was it Sad? Nostalgic? Calm?


Or neither of them.


Even Annan couldn’t understand that complicated emotion.


Those were the eyes one could have only after living through most of their life.


The people who met those eyes would quiet down subconsciously.


“Are you sad, Father?” ...

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