“Together we’ll make Britannia greater and ensure its security. But only if you let go of your rebellious notions.” The vision vanishes, evaporating suddenly as I remember the way the Bulgarian dragons pulled Rhydderch’s head from his body. The dead Third Class girl’s bloody face. My father’s eyes as he was led out of our house and pushed into a Guardian car. The images Wyvernmire’s words have created are just an illusion, one that hides the ugly truth that my parents saw from the beginning. “People shouldn’t fear their prime ministers, Wyvernmire,” I say slowly. “Prime ministers should fear
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