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... as getting ready to head out when Emma appeared at the door again.

“Someone here to see you,” she said, not bothering to hide her annoyance. “Also, I’m not your secretary. Shouldn’t we have a servant to answer the damned door?”

I gave her a steady look. “You’re my squire. I should be having you scrub my armor and dress me. Would you prefer that?”

Emma blew out a breath, sighing. “Shall I see them up?”

I waved my assent. A minute later, Faisa Dance stepped into my ...

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