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... g to fight another gray mirror for the prize of never again having to ride a coach.
It was no reflection on the coachman, a grizzled old woman who knew the country roads like the back of her hand and drove to Chalcia – the town nearest to the Eirenos estate – at least twice a week. It was the roads themselves that were devil’s work, the quality having wildly dropped a mere two hours out of Tratheke and never daring another swing upwards from there. It was as if someone had built a trail ...
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