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It Is Personal
The morning sun had barely climbed above the palace towers when a soft flutter echoed through the open window of Uriel’s office.
Uriel looked up from the stack of documents spread across his desk, irritation already etched on his face. He had barely slept. Between the continued calming of nobles, managing the aftermath of everyone losing their magic, and keeping the palace from spiraling into panic, he felt like he had aged ten years in a single week.
The sound came again.
Flutter. ...
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