Fidelis Jes was often referred to as an ideal specimen of human fitness by the city’s gossip columns and Michel could find no argument against it. Jes had a finely chiseled chest, shoulders and arms to match, and legs that would make an athlete weep. He was supposedly in his forties but didn’t look a day over thirty, with refined cheekbones that gave him a haughty, memorable face. Rumor had it that Jes jogged around the base of the Landfall Plateau every single morning. Michel had never seen him jogging personally and assumed it was some kind of in-joke among the Gold Roses. Yet here he was,
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