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Ivy: The Magister's Secret

Dmitri didn’t move a muscle. He kind of reminded me of a terrified rabbit.

It was quite adorable, really.

“I’m sorry, boys,” the man in the chair said, looking back into the fire. His face seemed tired and troubled. “I just needed somewhere quiet to think. I thought I’d have a few more hours before you all started coming back from your carousing.”

“Well, we… ah… we…” Dmitri started, and I could almost see his brain frantically trying to come up with some sort of explanation.

“Still, nice to see that you’re having an early night, eh? It’s good that you take your studies seriously. We must always balance our fun with responsibility.”

Oddly enough, with those last words, his lecturing tone dropped and he looked away. Call me crazy, but I know a guilty look when I see one. You tend to see them a lot in my line of work (usually when a client puts on a wedding ring after we have ourselves a little tumble).

Mother Rose might find this interesting, although I sure as hell don’t know what it means.

Yet.

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