12/05/2026 01:42

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Her solace at confession was not false, I think. The woman no longer sounded intoxicated at all. Myrelle's head came up defiantly. Some see me so.

I'll see what I can arrange, he said dryly, stuffing the medallion into a coat pocket. But better than the other way around, at least. Those she discarded; the others she tucked away, to be prodded and poked later in the hope she might understand what they meant. Small chance of that, perhaps ever again.