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The Council’s section of the Holy Palace was quieter than usual, a bit too quiet.

Malik’s footsteps carried through the marble halls, making attendants pull aside without needing to be told.

Sinbad clung lazily to Malik’s shoulder, his tail curling around the back of Malik’s neck like a scarf.

Azeem walked slightly behind, head bowed in respect.

At the end of the corridor loomed a door twice Malik’s height, carved with many a word.

It was a door me ...

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