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... pace, as the sunlight slipped through the paper screens in warm golden ribbons across the bed.
The silk sheets felt cool and familiar against my skin, carrying that quiet mix of cherry blossoms and sandalwood that had almost become home to me over the past two weeks.
I blinked a few times, then muttered upward to the air without really thinking.
"Morning, Sys."
[Good morning, Benjamin Mark.]
...Hm. Wasn’t it "master" they’d call you at times like this?
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