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Chapter 42; Ferngrove

As we drew closer to the town, the first signs of life came not in the form of bustling streets or the hum of conversation, but from the faint plume of smoke curling upward in the distance. It wove into the sky like a signal, marking the presence of something—people, perhaps. The old church stood on the hill beyond, silent and weathered, like a watchful guardian over the lands below. But before we could reach it, Valen guided us off the path, toward a grove of trees.

He dismounted first, his movements fluid and sure, then reached for me, his hands warm and firm around my waist as he lifted me down from the Griffin. The intimacy of the gesture wasn’t lost on me, and for a brief second, I let myself enjoy the steady comfort of his touch.

From behind us, Calia’s laugh broke the moment. "Porcelain doll," she muttered, her voice dripping with that familiar sneer, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

I spun on her, narrowing my gaze. "Want to see just how porcelain I am?" I snapped, my voice s
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