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... as still bathed in the soft twilight of the morning, broken only by the light escaping through the heavy curtains. The scent of rumpled sheets, old incense, and polished wood filled the air.

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked around.

Kryssia slept on her side, her hair spread across the pillow, its light blue strands reflecting like the sea, her breathing slow and deep.

Xenovia was closer, partially curled up in the sheets, one hand resting on her abdomen, the ...

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