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... and ash. A sprawling war table sat at the center, weighed down by brass tokens and scattered parchments.
Claude sat at the head, one leg crossed over the other, chin resting against the back of his fingers as his generals argued.
Samson stood like an iron wall beside him, arms folded, his blunt voice slicing through the air. "Hyparia will reinforce their border before week's end. If we don't move now, we'll be pinned between the Saintess' march and the Crown's eastern dukes." ...
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