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... to be evening now. How many days had she slept?

Throwing off the covers and walking downstairs in slippers, Tilan saw Geyin dining in the restaurant.

Cocking her head slightly, Tilan was curious why Geyin actually decided to come out for a meal today.

Apart from Geyin, there were two maids in the dining room; one was serving Geyin warmed soup after the meal, while the other waited at the side of the room.

"Good evening, Lord Tiran," she greeted Tilan with a sligh ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

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Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

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