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"We’ll pray for your soul, Sir Eatassh," Kaelen whispered, his voice trembling as he made a small sign of the cross over his chest. He backed away toward the door, closing it shut.
Click.
Eatassh stood frozen, his hand still white-knuckled on his sword hilt. "Your Grace... how do you know that title?"
"Which one? Viscount Eatassh Bloodbanner?" I asked, my voice flat.
"Kaelen, he looks exactly like me from that time, doesn’t he?" Hans whispered, leaning against ...
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