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... s of light across the room as I started packing. My belongings were few – a change of clothes, a small pouch of coins, some biscuits. Each item I placed into the worn leather satchel felt like a step further away from the life I had known, both as Alex Miller and as the adopted son of House Sapphire. My hands, still tender from my self-inflicted wounds, moved stiffly, but my mind was a whirlwind of second thoughts.

Herald. His demands. My fingers instinctively gripped the hilt of my trai ...

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