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... tuated in a quiet corner of East Market Inn. Soft, silver-lined shadows sneak across its floor boards as Arienne Gluurin, granddaughter and only surviving relative of the inn's owner, Lady Aribelle Gluurin, prepares herself for bed.
A sheer nightgown clung to her body like a shimmer of mist, as thin as a whisper.
Like most women, she cares little for the traditions of modesty in a world where men had long since forgotten how to lust.
She sits at a dresser, brushing her lo ...
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