The 13th Psalm
E-book
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Nouveauté
The Heir’s Awakening. The Legacy Chronicles, #1
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- FormatePub
- ISBN8230913498
- EAN9798230913498
- Date de parution02/09/2025
- Protection num.pas de protection
- Infos supplémentairesepub
- ÉditeurIndependently Published
Résumé
LondonThey say the Royal Academy was built to preserve our legacy-our faith, our history, our place in the world. But lately, it feelsmore like a gilded cage, the walls closing in as the world outsidesharpens its knives. I push open the heavy oak doors of the main hall, my Louboutinsclicking against the marble floor, and stride inside like I ownthe place. Because technically, I do. Or at least, my family does.
The ceiling soars above me, covered in intricate paintings of ourancestors-kings, queens, and rulers who shaped history. Butbeneath them, gathered in tense clusters, are their modern-daydescendants, murmuring in hushed voices. Everyone looks onedge, their designer uniforms crisp but their eyes shadowedwith something darker.
The ceiling soars above me, covered in intricate paintings of ourancestors-kings, queens, and rulers who shaped history. Butbeneath them, gathered in tense clusters, are their modern-daydescendants, murmuring in hushed voices. Everyone looks onedge, their designer uniforms crisp but their eyes shadowedwith something darker.
LondonThey say the Royal Academy was built to preserve our legacy-our faith, our history, our place in the world. But lately, it feelsmore like a gilded cage, the walls closing in as the world outsidesharpens its knives. I push open the heavy oak doors of the main hall, my Louboutinsclicking against the marble floor, and stride inside like I ownthe place. Because technically, I do. Or at least, my family does.
The ceiling soars above me, covered in intricate paintings of ourancestors-kings, queens, and rulers who shaped history. Butbeneath them, gathered in tense clusters, are their modern-daydescendants, murmuring in hushed voices. Everyone looks onedge, their designer uniforms crisp but their eyes shadowedwith something darker.
The ceiling soars above me, covered in intricate paintings of ourancestors-kings, queens, and rulers who shaped history. Butbeneath them, gathered in tense clusters, are their modern-daydescendants, murmuring in hushed voices. Everyone looks onedge, their designer uniforms crisp but their eyes shadowedwith something darker.
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