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CHAMBER OF POETRY 2

A gentle knock echoed through the wooden door of Lord Mordian's chamber, startling him from his musings.

He approached the entrance, his curiosity piqued, and pulled it open to reveal a sight that stole his breath away.

Standing before him, radiant as a moonbeam, was none other than Stiora, Lord Wemblewin's cousin and the lady who had filled his thoughts.

Lord Mordian's eyes widened with surprise, and his voice caught in his throat. "Stiora," he uttered, his tone a mixture of disbelief and awe. "What brings you to my chamber at this late hour?"

Stiora met his gaze with an enchanting smile, her emerald eyes gleaming with a mischievous twinkle. "Lord Mordian," she began, her voice as soft as a lullaby. "I have heard that you are a very good poet, and upon my passing, I sensed the stirrings of inspiration emanating from within these walls. I come seeking a glimpse into the depths of your poetic soul."

A hint of skepticism flickered across Lord Mordian's features. "But why would you see
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