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Chapter 5: Trouble in Paradise
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Chapter 7: The Lion’s Den
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First was the magic. Holy shit, the magic.
I watched Cassandra casually light candles with a snap of her fingers, flames dancing from her palm like she was some kind of fire goddess. Lyanna made ice sculptures during breakfast just because she was bored, frost spiraling through the air in intricate patterns that would have made Disney animators weep. And my mother – Jesus Christ – my mother commanded the very air—and other elements I didn't know. She can make the curtains dance wi ...
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