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The gauntlet whispered, rocking rapidly as I brought myself up to straddle the wall. The particles of quartz rose up, up, up. She sees us. She feels us. She sees us. She feels us. She— I slammed my hand down on top of the gauntlet, and the piece of stolen armor stilled. The glinting specks of quartz fell back into the sand.
He was gaunt. Sickly-looking, his skin as pale and thin as parchment. A network of blue veins snaked out across his cheeks like lashes of forked lightning. Eyes the color of dull pewter assessed me, simmering with distaste. Unlike the king, the male’s attire was simple—a plain black robe that swamped his thin frame.
susurrus

