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Chapter 88: The Dust and the Crown
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Chapter 90: The Night of the High Fire
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... tively dislike anything with a pulse. Cherion was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at a stack of heavy wool tunics and wondering if it was physically possible to die of "too many layers" before the monsters even showed up. His fingers were stiff, not from the cold, but from a sort of frantic, pre-subjugation nerves.
He was reaching for a particularly thick pair of socks when the door didn’t so much open as it exploded with enthusiasm.
"Lord Cherion!"
Rein ...
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