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... there was a large faceprint of a hand on his cheek.

A deep-seated rage was clear as day as he glared down at everyone, especially me...bro, it's fine... it happens, and it was not my fault your wife wanted me. She assaulted me.

Along with me, everyone in the room cuffed their arms towards the king, "Your grace," we stated with reverence.

With a permanent scowl on his face, a man by the name of Duke Wybert Vargis stepped forward. His grey hair hanging loose, while a viciou ...

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