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... ite marble, etched with golden patterns that shimmered faintly in the soft light.

The bed beneath him felt wrong, too soft and clean. His body, on the other hand, throbbed with pain, every limb felt heavy, his chest tight beneath fresh bandages.

Where the hell am i?

He forced himself to sit up, wincing as fire flared through his ribs. His mind was still foggy, but the images flashed through, Ceremony, Azrael, the pain, the blood.

The door creaked open, and Lady Si ...

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