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... desk with bookshelves.
A man rose from his large office desk, approached me quietly in the backlight of the large window, and spoke softly.
“…that look.”
“Eh?”
The dark-haired young man, who muttered something incomprehensible, suppressed his speech as if in a rush, and then looked at me again.
“Are you Miss Carol of the Arceides?”
“Yes, Your Highness Camille, isn’t it?”
After confirming this, I showed him my curtsy, which I had learned ove ...
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