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... nos.

Her back ached, as much from last night’s exertions as the fact that she’d burned an entire candle translating the secret correspondence. It had gone into the empty pages of the cyphered journal she’d obtained from the carriage, secrets added to secrets in a turn that stirred an ember of exhausted amusement. It was better than asking the servants for fresh paper in the middle of the night, anyway.

The spread waiting for her downstairs was impressive. Figs and apricots, bread ...

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