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... re perfect, glass dangling loosely from her fingertips, though her eyes never left the woman slumped on the bed.

Lucindra lay across the velvet sheets, one arm flung to the side, her breathing shallow, uneven. The goblet still glistened on the bedside table, half-empty.

She’d swallowed the poisoned wine with no hesitation—no question, no suspicion. Not even a flicker of doubt in her crimson-gold eyes.

That part was... off.

Veylira narrowed her gaze.

Lucind ...

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