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Lansius stood at the half-open window of his bedchamber, enjoying the night breeze. Stars dotted the sky, but he wasn't in the mood for stargazing. He sipped kumis from a beautifully crafted wineskin. The mare's milk wine, a gift from the nomads' elder, was smooth yet strong, reddening his face.

The nomads' annual visit and the horse market had just concluded. Aside from a homage of horses that Lansius would use for breeding, they also exchanged more horses, their famous silken-lik ...

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