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... e of the palace floor. His expression, which had remained composed until now, hardened with unmistakable disapproval. He turned slowly to face Thalien, his lips pressed into a thin, pale line.
He was all in all apalled that such words had even been uttered
"Your Grace" he began, voice low and clipped, each word weighed and measured, "your father is prince of Herculia and I am a lord of his."
The silence between them was heavy—but Cretio pressed on, undeterred.
"It ...
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