The voices echoed from grand hall of the palace all the way to the garden, your favourite place in the kingdom you haven't ever seen much, not from outside the palace. You stepped towards the roses that looked even more beautiful in the darkness of early night. You reached out, ending up to have a thorn cutting your index finger. Be careful. That voice barely spoke just for you, but you'd recognize it anywhere. Sir. Brann, or like he was in your private dreams, just Alister.
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