If I were to concede the ruler’s chambers to Mercy, I’d at least have some comforts from home. The mirror was one of them. A pinch of irritation flares behind my ribcage. I shouldn’t have let her have the rooms so easily. Not after what she did to me. I somehow got caught in a moment of atrocious human weakness. When I held her arm and she flinched, I could tell she was injured. The fall into the sacrificial pit must have been the root cause of her wound. Although every part of me, down to the very last atom, wanted to see her suffer, I let go. As if pulled by an invisible force. What was
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