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Chapter 6: First Draft
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Chapter 8: Inexperienced in the North
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He had concentrated so intensely that he felt a slight headache, yet the sense of satisfaction was even greater.
He opened the window and let the cold night air wash over him.
Even in April, a chill wind, sharp as a blade, grazed his cheek.
“Whoa.”
As he urgently reached out to catch the papers that nearly blew away in the breeze, he noticed the rose-patterned vial on the desk.
It was the “Rose Elixir” that Lohengrin, the eldest son, had handed hi ...
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