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... Pray tell, who is the one who has drawn your sacred gaze?” The older man, who was clad in silken white vestments that were trimmed in a deep crimson, asked.
“That is beyond your station to know,” Zephni replied, her visage a mask of cold composure, as impenetrable as it was still.
“Apologies, your holiness,” The older man softly replied. Appearing to be in his late thirties, his golden-blonde hair was pulled into a tight braid behind a silver circlet. His eyes were colored a mund ...
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