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... me.

No one dared.

The hem of my gown trailed behind me, crimson whispering over the marble like a ghost that hadn’t yet decided to leave. I said nothing to the guards I passed. Gave no orders to the maids that scurried out of my path like I was some terrible omen. They whispered. They stared.

And I let them.

I wasn’t walking to be seen.

I was walking to feel real.

My bare feet pressed into each stone tile like it mattered. I traced every turn of t ...

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