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... d upwards to form fleeting, ghost-like shapes that bounced up and down. No. That wasn’t right. It was Serena’s vision that was rhythmically moving.

She was riding a horse.

Or rather, whoever it was in this memory she was inhabiting was riding a horse. It wasn’t just her. There were others. Demonoid shapes, each holding reins, each with their own steed. Their faces were a blur, with only the faintest inclination of whether they were male or female.

Even as she thought that ...

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She died with her eyes wide open, waiting by the river for three days and three nights, only to be greeted not by her husband, but by her benefactor. As she looked at the blurred figure, her heart was deeply moved, and she silently made a vow: if she could be reborn, she would definitely marry him!… Later, she really was reborn.

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It was in the middle of the night that the woman who would be the Duchess came to see me.

She said my father and mother died, and my kind uncle became king.

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