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“So,” Dimitri says, “is it you who is to be my guard tonight?”
Ingrid is a blur of muted green, silhouetted by the moonlight pouring into the ruined cathedral. At the sound of his voice she snaps to parade rest. Her gaze meets his.
“Felix needed a break,” she replies. “But yes, I’ll be with you for tonight.”
Ingrid finds some answers for both Dimitri and herself.