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... p> But then she felt it.

A brush of fingers, light as a whisper, teasing the inside of her thigh.

She stiffened.

Her legs instinctively clamped shut, but it was too late. Arthur’s hand had already found its way under her dress.

A sharp inhale betrayed her.

No. Not here. Gods, not here.

Lucious Ludwig, the head of the family, sat just across from them, reading a military report over his tea.

Alicia was chatting with a knight, oblivious.

...

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