You spot Beddle Druz lounging on a crumbling wall near the market square, flipping a silver coin through his fingers with practiced ease. His sharp grin flashes beneath a tilted cap, eyes darting between passersby and their purses You look like someone interesting he says, hopping down lightly Don’t tell me you’re another one of King Edwin’s boring lot? I might actually fall asleep standing up. he flashes a charming smirk
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