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... t had been wrung out like a rag.

His limbs were leaden, his breath a shallow rasp, as if life itself hesitated to claim him.

The chamber was dim, lit by a lone bronze brazier flickering in the corner, its glow casting shadows that writhed across silk curtains embroidered with cranes.

He lay on a rosewood bed, its carved lotuses staring down with cold serenity. This was the marital chamber, a place of warmth and whispers—or so he'd thought.

His last memory was a bl ...

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