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    By the time Aerion was finally delivered to their chambers, he was snarling and spitting insults.

    “Keep your wretched hands off of me,” he hissed, before the door was hurriedly shut behind him.

    Valarr eyed him with thinly veiled exasperation. “Must everything with you be a spectacle?” He asked dryly. “You are no stranger to what a bedding ceremony entails.”

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    11 Apr 2026