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“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Seeing if we can alter your image a bit.”
Neia sat frozen in her saddle as Saye reached across from her mount to fiddle with her hair. When she thought about it, she realised that it was rare for her to be touched by anyone outside of being jostled by allies or attacked by enemies in battle.
“Alter it into what?” Neia asked, “It’s not as if anyone will see me out here.”
“You have at least a hundred men looking at you every day,” ...
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