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Chapter 55

Alastair glared at the paper work at his desk, he diligently worked through it, stamping here and there or just plain burning the sheets. His mind kept creeping back to the girl he left in the dungeon.

‘Was she okay? Was it too cold? Would she be fine?’ The questions seemed to make him second guess his judgment and he had walked to the door a dozen or so times with intention of freeing her and then returning with a reluctant face.

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