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... Estelle.
She grew more beautiful every day. Her fingertips carried the scent of fresh apples, and her feet gave off the smell of ripe grapes. Everywhere she walked, people were entranced as if they had drunk too much wine. Her fluttering hair resembled a field of golden wheat and exuded the scent of autumn, captivating the entire village whenever she passed.
Estelle, the Saintess of the Outskirts.
That was what people began to call her.
One day, an impoverished ...
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