WEBVTT

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The storm outside was a steady. rhythmic percussion.

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a symphony of spring rain driving against

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the diamond -painted glass.

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Inside the study. however. time seemed to slow.

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wrapping the room in a heavy. comforting

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amber hush.

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Towering oak bookshelves. rich with the dark patina

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of centuries. stretched from the polished

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hardwood floor to the vaulted ceiling. their vast

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canyons of leather -bound volumes holding

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the silent weight of forgotten histories.

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Julian exhaled a long breath. settling deep into

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the worn cognac leather of the armchair.

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The hearth beside him crackled softly. casting a

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warm. flickering glow that danced across

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the golden -boss spines of the nearest books

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and caught the faint dust motes drifting in

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the air.

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On the mahogany side table. a brass desk

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lamp emitted a pool of soft dusk lamplight.

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illuminating

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only the pages of the open folio in

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his lap and the steaming mug of spiced

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tea at his

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elbow.

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Outside. a stray gust of wind whipped a

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fresh volley of droplets streaking down the dark

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windows. blurring the neonless night into a comforting

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charcoal blur.

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Julian turned a page. the crisp rustle echoing

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softly in the cavernous silence of the room.

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Here. sheltered from the damp chill of the

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evening. the world outside dissolved into

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nothingness. leaving only the crackle of the fire.

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the scent of aged paper and polished

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wood and the quiet company of a thousand

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timeless minds.