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... ply turned and walked toward the wagon, his steps steady, yet there was something in the stiffness of his back that made it clear he was still displeased, and I followed quietly behind him, my earlier boldness gone as my eyes drifted upward almost against my will.
Honestly...
How was it fair for someone to look that good from behind?
His shoulders were broad, his posture straight, and the faint movement of his muscles beneath his robe as he walked made my thoughts wander ...
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