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... er, as usual.

Aria set down her quill, rubbing her temples. Supply requisitions from the northern garrison. Tax disputes in the merchant quarter. Another complaint about nim "disturbing the peace" that roughly translated to "existing while looking attractive."

[Same trifles, different day.]

Her eyes drifted to Captain Fenris’s letter, still sitting on her desk where she’d left it three days ago. She’d read it enough times to memorize every word.

"Your Majesty, I w ...

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