Chapter 110 Chapter One Hundred and Ten

Isla walked into her bedroom, nodded to her mate, and flopped down face-first on the bed. 

“Difficult day?” Sylvan asked from where he stood by the washbasin. 

“Fruitful day,” Isla corrected, her answer muffled in the pillow. “Draining day.”

“Was the servant girl able to point out the perpetrator...

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