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... actly like I imagined it would—a cold, dry promise that no one involved would enjoy the price.
When we let go, there was no polite nod, no fake smile, no sudden declaration of trust. Just business. His guards shifted, clearly annoyed at the time lost on the road. Silven didn’t look back at me as he mounted his horse.
"Be ready," he said, voice like rusted steel. "You’ve made your choice. Don’t make me regret tolerating you."
I didn’t bother answering. I just turned and me ...
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