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Chapter 192 - All The Possibilities

Deming didn't knock when he entered.

 

He never did anymore.

 

By now, he knew me too well—knew that I wouldn't be startled by his presence, or that if I were, I'd recover before it showed. He also knew that I hated small talk, hated formality when there were more important things to be done.

 

Like planning how to destroy half of our own country.

 

"You're early," I said, not looking up from the scroll on my lap.

 

He moved quietly, crossing the room with the steady steps of someone used to command but not needing to flaunt it. We had moved back to the manor, and Deming had moved right in with us.

 

The outside world had grown hushed as the months had passed like the blink of an eye. The servants lit the torches throughout the corridors; the guards did their rounds while the servants slept lightly. The hunt had come and gone, and the snow had finally begun to fall.

 

"I couldn't sleep," he replied simply, pulling a chair up beside me.

 

"Nightmares?"

 

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