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‘Please sir,’ she says once more. ‘Are you not the Northland warrior, the one they call Lone Wolf? I was in attendance at the Elector’s court when he awarded you the Star of Palmyrion for your victory over the Cener Druids of Ruel. I would be honoured if you would grace me with your company.’
Intrigued by the young woman’s account, and her high-bred charms, you step away from the bushes and approach her carriage door.
