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... the porcelain teacup trembling gently between her fingers. Her sword arm aches, not from battle, but from a full hour of pretend pastry slicing and etiquette roleplay with a pint-sized demon-kin princess.

She needs hard liquor. She gets jasmine and hellflower blend instead.

Across from her, lounging like a bored goddess on a chaise carved from volcanic glass, is the Demon Queen herself.

Vexena sips her tea in silence, eyes closed, lips curved in subtle satisfaction. Her ...

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