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Chapter 5: Idiot
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The dining room of the northern wing was bright with morning light and quiet in the particular way only palaces ever were, with soft steps, murmured voices, and the careful clink of porcelain. It should have been comforting. It wasn’t.
Sebastian was already there.
He sat at the long table with a cup of coffee he clearly hadn’t touched in several minutes, posture rigid in the way that meant he was holding himself back from doing something deeply undiplomatic. His bla ...
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