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... started, as the night deepened, the drunks began stumbling back to their quarters. But my target, Samia, still looked perfectly sober. When we’d drunk together before, she’d mentioned she could hold her liquor. I paced myself, waiting for the right moment.

’Now.’

I slowly approached her. She was sitting alone in her wheelchair, sipping a strong rum. She saw me and smiled.

“There you are, hero.”

“Hello, Princess.”

We chuckled and clinked our bottles.

< ...

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