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Chapter 35: A Knife at the Table
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Chapter 37: Masks and Daggers (2)
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... k to properly warm but strong enough to wake every recruit. Soren rolled his stiff neck, the whiskey from last night’s conversation with Veyr Velrane still clinging to the back of his throat.
His muscles ached from yesterday’s training, a dull throb that had become as familiar as breathing.
The barracks hummed with unusual activity. Whispers cut through the typical morning grunts and complaints, recruits hunched in small clusters, glancing in Soren’s direction before returning to ...
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