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Morning.
Compound
Wyfkeep Castle, Wyfellon.
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As they walked further, the temperature noticeably dropped, and Salviana began to feel an odd rumbling sensation beneath her feet. The ground seemed to vibrate every few seconds, sending a wave of anxiety through her. She shot a glance at her husband, the dark prince, his hooded eyes steady and unreadable as they had been all morning. His gaze was slightly narrowed, almost as if the daylight bothered him—like a cat exposed to too much light, or an albino struggling under the sun.
Like a vampire.