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... palm into the ancient lock. It turned with a reluctant click, followed by the slow groan of the heavy oak door swinging inward.

The room, though not used, was kept clean and neat. A breath of fresh air drifted past him, tinged faintly with rose oil, lavender, and something older—like the fading scent of parchment and silken robes tucked away for too long.

Yes, he had instructed the maids not to touch Astrid’s clothes.

He stepped inside, lit the torches by the door, and t ...

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