22/04/2026 21:59

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Not this time. His ears twitched as if he could feel the women's eyes. For myself. Your pardon, friend Ogier.

At least, the ends he saw were so, but he suspected they were all the same. Juin came down the steps from outside. Yet, he had grown used to the comfort of clean shirts again, of not wearing the same breeches day after day until sweat and dirt made them as stiff as his boots, then wearing them still. I believe it is not real.