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... l never touch."
As if summoned by the toast, or more likely, by the gods of political inconvenience, Lucius appeared behind them with the weary elegance of a man who had just escaped diplomatic captivity.
He didn’t wait to be acknowledged. He stepped into the circle like it was a lifeboat.
"I swear," he muttered, "if one more noble asks me about heirs, I will burn this ballroom to the ground."
Chris turned slightly. "Good evening, darling."
Lucius gave him ...
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