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... lled his face into a mask of solemn concern, furrowing his brow and tilting his head at just the right angle of tragic sympathy. But inside? Inside, the Snake King was popping champagne. He was doing cartwheels. He was composing a ballad titled "The Tiger is Gone and Now She Is Mine."
He could hardly believe his luck. The feral madness had done exactly what he hoped it would do—it had driven the idiot into the wilderness to die. Fate was finally, finally on his side.
Syris hugged ...
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