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Chapter 2: The Scent of Destiny
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... and sulfur, sharp enough to make my eyes water.
I dropped the ancient scroll I’d been translating and spun toward the Archives’ door. My heart hammered against my ribs. Fire in the Royal Archives meant death. These books were thousands of years old, irreplaceable, and they burned faster than dried leaves.
But there was no fire.
Prince Cassian Valtor stood in the doorway instead, and somehow that felt more scary.
"The Archives are closed, Your Highness." I forced m ...
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