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"I loathe her, and yet I must have her. Every denial, every
move away only increases my desire. Does fate conspire
against me, does the magical fabric of this world seek to
frustrate me?" Pitrick's head snapped back and he howled,
"How could it fail me? I made no mistake!"
The sound of rapping at his door stiffened Pitrick in the
granite seat. He looked all around the room, at first con-
fused by the sound, until it came again. The cloud of
mushale and anguish in his mind cleared away as his focus
returned to more immediate surroundings.
Along with the scroll, I have prematurely disposed of Le-
gaer, as well, he mused. The memory of the hapless ser-
vant's soft neck beneath Pitrick's fingers brought a wry
smile to his lips as he stood. Still, a replacement was needed
immediately.
The knocking at the door resumed. Pitrick clumped irri-
tably across the room, thoroughly annoyed by the intru-
sion. He paused, debating whether to answer it at all, but
decided a fresh face might be diverting.
"What is it?" he demanded as he yanked open the heavy
door, surprising the black-armored harrn of the House
Guard who was standing there
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