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... breath fogging in the cool air. The courtyard murmured below—horses shifted, a guard's boots scraped—but the quiet gnawed at him. He was still reminiscing Drenvar's fight, "Need more than this."

Footsteps clicked behind him—soft, hesitant. He half-turned, hand twitching to his hilt, but froze as a figure slipped from the corridor's shadow.

Princess Isabella, cloaked in deep velvet, hood low. It slipped as she stopped, chestnut hair tumbling loose, catching faint gold in the light ...

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