Kiuran gave her a crooked smile. “You may take the first move. There is nothing about you I do not know.” “I’d contend you don’t know my friends.” The Hound gave a skeptical glance to the others at her side, but none of them were likely to move. Which was fine, because Yerin hadn’t been talking about them. A man slipped one black-armored hand over Kiuran’s shoulder. His white hair still looked strange to Yerin, but his friendly grin was too familiar. “Thank you for taking such good care of my adopted daughter,” Ozriel said. The pressure from the Hound disappeared as he dropped to one knee.
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