PREVIEW
... ched wide, open and endless beyond the stone walls of Varyndor.
For the first time in sixteen years, Daemon tasted air that wasn't soaked in politics or royal perfume. The scent of grass and wildflowers was sharp on his tongue, the wind cold and biting against his skin.
Carriages rattled along the merchant roads, carts overflowing with exotic spices and steel, peasants barking out prices to passing nobles, and mercenaries sharp-eyed for thieves.
Daemon didn't stop for any ...
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