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The castle forecourt, flanked by a few ancient, gnarled trees, was strewn with a carpet of dead, yellow leaves. The scene had an air of somberness and desolation.
Rhaegar scanned the castle grounds, his eyes searching for a familiar face.
The gate creaked open, and several figures with silver hair emerged, full of enthusiasm.
Daeron, running ahead, threw his arms wide with a joyful shout. “Brother, you’ve finally arrived!”
“Your Grace!” came the warm respo ...
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