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... but somehow... comfortable. Cozy. The sun shone through the slightly cracked glass of the perpetually open windows. Ardi couldn’t remember them ever being closed, even in winter. The sound of the curtains, reminiscent of owls’ feathers rustling in the wind, could be heard even from the corridor. And there was always a pleasant smell.

Every few days, Mother would change the flowers in the tall vase hidden in the corner of the room on a small, carved table which was almost the color of che ...

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