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... in the king's private chamber, casting long shadows across the carved bookshelves and oil paintings of dead monarchs. Outside, the palace gardens shimmered in the moonlight, undisturbed by the weight that sat so heavily on King Bruno's shoulders.

He did not sleep.

Instead, he sat by the hearth once more, nursing a half-finished cup of wine, the scroll from Masséna still on the table beside him—unread for the tenth time.

A soft knock came at the door.

"Enter," Brun ...

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