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Chapter One 1780 Madrid The Name That Wasn’t Weather: Rain settling into stone. Windows held their breath. Quasi-Embassy at Dawn The door opened with the quiet of betrayal— no knock, no warning, just the creak of inevitability. It moved slow, like it knew what was coming. Like it had opened before—for other silences, for other erasures. He entered. Not a man. A shape carved from smoke and duty. Dripping rain and decades. Coat hanging like a discarded oath. No gloves. No name. No pa
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Chapter One 1780 Madrid The Name That Wasn’t Weather: Rain settling into stone. Windows held their breath. Quasi-Embassy at Dawn The door opened with the quiet of betrayal— no knock, no warning, just the creak of inevitability. It moved slow, like it knew what was coming. Like it had opened before—for other silences, for other erasures. He entered. Not a man. A shape carved from smoke and duty. Dripping rain and decades. Coat hanging like a discarded oath. No gloves. No name. No pa
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