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Chapter 80: Art
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Chapter 82: Hand-carved
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... r uncertain strokes. The lines were crooked at first, but soon gathered into something unmistakable: a towering black castle perched upon the summit like a wound in the landscape.
Its spires clawed upward into the painted sky, swallowing the pale silver light she had laid there before.
Lucrezia’s breath slowed as she worked the brush, moving with a strange urgency she did not quite understand. And at every stroke, the castle grew darker and much colder.
She wanted to stop ...
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