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... erday. An armour-like bodice hugged her form, while a flowing purple skirt allowed freedom of movement. It must have cost a fortune, especially for someone like her. Yet Samantha, whose facial expression had veered between sorrow and desperation, was swimming in excitement. Her lips were open in tiny giggles as a black-haired man with a sharp nose, light skin, and an average male build coated in chainmail cracked jokes.

"Samantha," Dasha greeted.

Samantha spun on her feet, still ...

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