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Albedo knelt beside Ains’s bed, her golden eyes shimmering with adoration as the flicker of candlelight traced the contours of his human face — a form she could finally touch without hesitation. The air was heavy with the unspoken tension between command and desire, as she whispered his name like a prayer, trembling on the edge between devotion and temptation. Ains, silent for a long moment, merely raised a gloved hand — and she leaned forward, unsure whether she was about to be blessed or undone

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