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... he think she is, talking like that? My herbs don't smell!"
He slammed his hand against the wooden counter of his shop, then paused, his scowl deepening.
"…But what if she did notice something?"
His anger wavered, replaced by a creeping unease.
That "niece" of the Margrave had seen through too much—her tone hadn't been just arrogant; it had been warning.
The more he thought about it, the more the suspicion grew.
She hadn't been impressed, she'd been ...
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