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Chapter 140: The Severing.
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Chapter 142: Letter of Fire
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... e. Bells tolled from the towers, not melodious but sharp, meant to drive men from beds and women to markets.
The smell of baking bread, of frying onions, of the sour wine left unfinished from the night before—these were the perfumes of the capital's dawn.
And amid all of it, at a battered wooden table outside a roadside tavern, sat Aric Valerian and Serina Marceli.
Their clothes were wrong for breakfast. His black coat was streaked with ash and crusted blood. Her sleeves ...
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