The morning bells of the Citadel of the White Dawn chimed with a deep, crystalline resonance that echoed across the snow-capped amphitheater of the Frost Peaks, rolling through the thin mountain air like music played upon silver bells. Mira stood upon the wide marble terrace of the high citadel, wrapped in a heavy cloak of silver-fox fur lined with midnight-blue silk provided by the palace attendants. The air was crisp,…
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