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Chapter 50 - _ At The Funeral III

CHAPTER 50

I gritted my teeth as the murmurs began. It was first a swarm of hornets disturbed by the arrival of a neon-colored circus.

"Good gods, look at the one in the lace," a woman two rows back whispered, her voice carrying that effortless, high-society snap that made every word feel like a lash. "Is she wearing a tablecloth? And the gold... it's so yellow it looks like it was plucked from a cereal box."

Her companion replied with a refined sneer audible in his tone. "And the man with the belly. That suit is screaming for mercy. Is this a funeral or a costume party for the destitute? Who allowed these... creatures onto the royal grounds?"

I wanted to vanish. I wanted to turn into a molecule of oxygen and drift away, far from the judgmental stares of people who owned more in their jewelry boxes than I had ever seen in my life.

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