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457. Duskval Festival XVIII
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459. A Cold Nightval
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... so brilliant. The triplets hair had lightened over the last week, and Adam had only spotted it that morning.
“Why are you children so bad?” Adam muttered to himself. Konarot looked up at him, her mouth open in shock. “I didn’t give you permission to grow cuter, did I?” Adam kissed her forehead, before returning to her hair.
Lanarot waddled over. “Papa,” she called, before climbing up beside Adam, holding up her own brush. “Papa.”
“You want me to brush your hair?”
...
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