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The Commoner and the Darned Nobles [Arc 3: Prologue 1]

[Ariele. Morning.

Arcimboldo Fiefdom. Vlysimn.]

I yawned and turned, lying atop a thick branch of a tree with a book of magic in my hand.

The morning breeze blew past me, the stiffle of the leaves forming a harmonic pitter-patter as strands of red appeared in front of my eyes, blocking the way to the book. I ran my hand over my hair as the sleeves of my cream tunic fluttered along with the leaves in the heavy Arcimboldo breeze. The breeze here was truly one of a kind, calling it the Arcimboldo breeze was never an exaggeration. With a sigh, I turned to the book in my hand and flipped through the pages.

***