Reader Tobias Cox

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I’m going to be sick. “Why are you ill?” Andarna asks. “Halden?” Tairn muses slowly, and I swear I can feel his nonexistent eyebrows rise. “So, we kill him if he makes her uncomfortable,” Andarna suggests. “Problem solved.” “You cannot kill the heir to the throne.” Even though I’ve been tempted myself a time or two.
Onyx Storm (The Empyrean, #3)
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