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Weekly Contest #342
The ship pulled away from the harbor shortly after dawn. The water still held the cool touch of night, and the city looked gentler than it ever did during the day. Lucia stood at the rail with her hands wrapped around cold wood, watching stone spires recede; the distance softening their edges. She remembered telling him she was leaving. They were in the old gallery, the one they had met in thousands of times before. He was standing near the window, hands braced on the stone walls, staring out at nothing. He looked younger without the crown a...
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