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The Banquet

ZURI

Amelia tugged the last ribbon into place, stepped back, and clasped her hands against her chest with a sharp inhale. “Perfect,” she whispered. Her eyes shone like she was staring at a goddess.

I turned toward the mirror, and for a moment, I almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back.

The gown clung in all the right places, the deep navy silk shimmering with every breath I took. Golden embroidery traced the hem and sleeves like fire licking against midnight, and the neckline ...

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