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... allpaper curled at the corners.
The bed creaked the moment Leonhardt sat down, and the scent of mildew mingled with the sweet, almost intoxicating air that Zafira carried with her body. It wasn't particularly romantic. It was cheap, dirty, and barely lit by a single flame flickering on the half-spent candle.
Yet Zafira adored it.
She dropped her cloak over the rust hook on the door, turning back with a mischievous smile that curled with something warm and wicked. "You did ...
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