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... al castle. Their footsteps dragged, their breaths came in labored puffs, and their appearances were… less than regal.

Liria glanced down at herself and groaned. Her once-pristine tunic was a scorched ruin, torn and singed in a dozen places. Her trousers had fared no better, now resembling a patchwork of soot and holes. Her hair, usually tied neatly, was sticking out at odd angles, and a streak of dirt ran down her cheek.

Next to her, Enara looked no better. Her dark locks were ma ...

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