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... had been mine.

It was almost cruel, how the mind insisted on remembering what the heart had long begged to forget. One moment I was in the ballroom, turning in Caelen’s arms like a specter bound by ceremony, and the next... I was elsewhere. Back then. Back when his eyes still looked at me like I was something worth saving.

He had been just a boy then. Dirt-streaked, starved, wild. I had found him crouched by my carriage, a hand in the fruit basket and the other frozen mid-theft. ...

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