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Chapter 70: Bliss My Ass **
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Chapter 72: Lament **
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... ggers, sank deep into the carved arm of his father’s high-backed chair. With a crunch of splintering oak and tearing velvet, he ripped the entire arm clean off, holding the ruined piece in rage.
"What," he enunciated, each word a chip of ice dropping into the silent room, "do you mean you still can’t find him?"
The men arrayed before the desk flinched as one. They were warriors, hardened scouts, elite trackers of the Vasiliev line. They knew their new king’s strength, his ambitio ...
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