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... y inn room. A soft knock echoed on the wooden door before it creaked open gently. Marie, with her auburn hair tied neatly behind her head and a bright smile on her face, stepped inside. In her arms, she held a small folded towel and a pitcher of warm water.
"Young Master Lucien, it's morning. Time to eat some breakfast before we depart," she said gently.
The boy on the bed stirred under a thick wool blanket. His silver hair peeked out, shining faintly in the morning light, and hi ...
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