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... ce of someone who believed stone and air bent for her. The late sun caught her white hair, making it glow like frost spun into silk. Her amethyst eyes glittered with something sharper than admiration as they traced Armand, then the skeletal hound seated at his side, and the pale bird perched lightly on his wrist.
She smiled as if she had rehearsed the expression, soft at the corners, but her gaze measured everything.
"Armand," she said, letting the name fall from her lips like a ...
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