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... om. The citizens mourned the deaths of the first hundred of the thousand. Their grief was raw, visible in every corner of the streets and homes. Yet the King did not mourn. He did not pause the machinery of his ambition. Instead, he redoubled it.
In the high, ivory halls of the Grand Nursery, the cycle became an assembly line. New women were brought in; previous ones were recycled. The womb had ceased to be a vessel of life—it had become a forge that was never allowed to cool.
Da ...
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