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Chapter 22: Theron
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... m Xavier’s lips upon seeing her, because it was an undeniable truth. She was indeed garbed now.
The woman from the corridor—no longer the image of sorrow, no longer fragile. She wore a sleek, obsidian robe that whispered against her skin, her hair drawn back into a tight braid that showcased the strength of her neck. At her side, a blade lay sheathed, a silent testament to her deadly prowess. Her posture was regal, poised like a queen ready to command an army, her expression inscrutable. ...
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