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... flock of pigeons.
Lyan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Josephine’s influence," he muttered, though the corner of his mouth betrayed him with a reluctant grin.
(Perhaps we should commission kinder titles,) Cynthia suggested, all maternal concern.
Lilith hummed. (No, no—pervert lord has a certain candor. Accurate branding.)
Arturia sighed. (Heralds will have headaches rewriting the ballads.)
He stepped aside as three recruits jogged by in half-armor, each t ...
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