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... heart, beating with the deep drums and the shrill flutes that pierced the air. Scarlet lanterns hung from the arches, diffusing a shifting, almost liquid light that reflected on the black marble and the braze-veined columns. Wine flowed without pause, dark and thick, into cups that servants passed from hand to hand. The smell of musk, sweat, and crushed fruit already saturated my lungs.
At the center, there was no longer any distinction between dance and lust. The demonesses weren’t pre ...
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