The country house was surrounded by soft hills and clean air, a place where silence was not suspicious but natural. There was no marble or gold, no forced curtsies, no political whispers echoing through corridors. Only wind, earth, and days that seemed to blend into one another.Elinor Avelyne of Valmere woke without bells announcing her presence and without maids waiting for instructions. For weeks, it had felt like a gift.Freedom.And yet, that morning, something unsettled her.She stepped toward the simple mirror leaning against the wall and studied her reflection, not as a lady adjusting her appearance, but as someone searching for an answer.Her face.The same face another woman now wore in the palace.The same face looking upon the Demon King, unaware of the truth behind it.Elinor frowned slightly.The resemblance was not mere similarity.It was exact.The shape of the eyes.The curve of the chin.The line of the lips.It was impossible.It could not be coincidence.For days,
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