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In front of her, Morningstar smiled. "Elisabeth. I wondered how you were faring, up here with only the birds for company." He was tall, impossibly so–fair-haired, his hair so pale it seemed as though he was crowned with light–and at his back were the two serrated wings that he always wore in the House: the metal weapons, forged especially for him, that acted as a reminder that he was first, and strongest among all the Fallen in Paris.
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— Aliette de Bodard, In Morningstar's Shadow ‎· воде нужны круги
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