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... lence that felt sacred.

Noel sat alone at one of the corner tables, light from a single floating orb casting soft shadows over the pages in front of him. He wasn't reading. He was waiting.

When Elyra von Estermont arrived, she didn't say a word. Just pulled the chair across from him and slid a folded parchment onto the table.

Noel picked it up, unfolded it.

Three names. Three timestamps. East wing. Late hours. Routine movement.

His eyes na ...

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