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... n sat cross-legged in a high-backed chair, her fingers drumming lightly against the round table.

Air smelled of blood and stale wine, mixing with the low murmurs of those gathered.

The room was dimly lit, its grand chandelier flickering as if struggling against the thick tension hanging in the air.

The other figures at the table were not alone. Each was accompanied by a slave—chained, cuffed, and standing silently behind their masters.

Their faces were hollow, the ...

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