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... her nose. There was really no end to the nasty drinks she would have to take. She closed her eyes and gulped it all down. It was bitter, of course—she had expected nothing less, but it still caught her off guard.

She returned the cup, and Mill accepted it. Mauve still scrunched her face. "Don’t you make better-tasting brews, Lord Kieran?"

"I’d rather not make brews at all," he stated, and Mauve sealed whatever complaints she had. "If you don’t feel any better before the night is ...

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