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... er first born.
Though her mind was busy with the plague, she tried to appear sane when she pushed through the training grounds door.
The heavy, rhythmic thwack of wood striking hardened leather echoed across the Manor’s back training grounds.
Roxy stepped out onto the back porch, the cool afternoon breeze ruffling her silk shirt.
She leaned against the wooden railing, her eyes softening as she watched her firstborn.
Drax was wielding a massive wooden train ...
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