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Started reading
December 4, 2024
“So yes, I, Adolin Kholin—cousin to the king, heir to the Kholin princedom—have shat myself in my Shardplate. Three times, all on purpose.”
He’d drafted a law requiring that all people of less than average intellect be required to commit suicide for the good of the city.
“You want to get a palanquin?” Lopen asked. “Those are for women.” “Ain’t nothing wrong with being a woman, gancho,” Lopen said. “Some of my relatives are women.”

