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... sway of a palace carriage this was rougher, faster, like whoever drove didn’t care if the wheels complained. The air smelled of old cloth and oiled wood. Every bump jolted through his bones and reminded him his wrists were still bound.

He tested the ropes again, carefully.

Tight. Clean knots. Not the kind tied in panic.

Professionals.

His throat burned, and his head felt heavy, like his thoughts were wrapped in wool. Whatever they’d pressed to his face earlier sti ...

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