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... en it's home. I lean back in the carriage seat, arms crossed, still chewing over every word from Bishop Lark's lips. That whole conversation left a bitter taste in my mouth.

You're going to die.

His voice echoes in my head. The worst part is that I don't even think he was lying to me. The Archbishop and his cardinals saw me as a threat—something unnatural, something dangerous. The first three-mark bearer in history, a power they didn't understand and couldn't control. And what me ...

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