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12

Esmeray spent the night in the unfamiliar surroundings of Xerxes’ tribe. Despite the exhaustion and confusion that clouded her mind, she found it difficult to sleep. Her thoughts were a jumble of questions and uncertainties, and the events of the past day replayed in her mind like a vivid dream.

Xerxes had insisted on sending her home, but Esmeray couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to their encounter than he was letting on. She couldn’t deny the strange connection she felt with him, a connection that seemed to transcend mere words or actions.

As dawn broke, Xerxes appeared at the entrance of the makeshift shelter where Esmeray had spent the night. His tall, imposing figure was bathed in the soft light of the rising sun, casting a golden glow around him. His dark hair was tousled from sleep, and his piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a depth of emotion that Esmeray couldn’t quite decipher.

“I must take my leave now,” Xerxes said, his voice low and gravelly. “But before I go,
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