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Myrcella didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t need to. The way she said it with a soft, knowing, almost amused was enough to make the air between them feel heavier.
She moved around Lilia slowly and deliberately, like a snake that had already decided its prey wasn’t going anywhere. One smooth step. Then another. The faint brush of fabric. The whisper of breath against skin. She circled once, then again, her presence tightening with every pass, until she finally slipped behind her.
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