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Aysel: Good Riddance?

As the days go by, I find myself stuck doing things that I never liked doing. Data work. I miss my early morning rounds now, miss my supervisor’s droning, heck I even miss the nitpicks of the senior doctors, who always seemed to glare at us and made us do all the grunt work in the beginning.

I have already heard enough whispers about Azriel, about his ill-temper and attitude, about him being arrogant and recluse. In his wing, there are a lot of people working, but none of them seem to look happy. Only James is cordial enough while the others don’t even bother to spare me a glance or give me the respect that a beta deserves.

I blink back to reality, blink blearily at another excel sheet that yet again contains details of members working in the palace. I am not sure why I am matching and verifying their details, but I can say that there’s funny business going on in this palace.

Frustration also built as neither Azriel nor anyone said anything about the letter. I stab the keys with my
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