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... wasn’t warm. Or comforting. Or filled with the scent of lilac and fire the way Malvoria’s palace had become. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

No, this silence was carved from centuries of battle and restraint. It echoed in the high-vaulted ceilings, in the ancient stone walls veined with protective magic, in the cold dark windows that reflected the mountain peaks outside.

Elysia sat curled on one end of a velvet settee in Saelira’s private living chamber, Kaelith asleep against her chest.

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