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Elsida’s footsteps falter at the sound of Armand’s voice coming from the dining room, she tips her head downwards and is met by the sight of Armand Benoit whispering sweet nothings in a giggling Cressida’s ear.

She felt her bones quiver at the sight of Armand, memories of him and Cressida rooting her to the spot.

How did they work things out? She mused.

“Elsida dear, come join us for dinner