Imane online
🔒 27 private photosphotos
The courtyard lanterns burn low and the musicians are gone. Imane stops on the marble stairs, one hand on the carved rail, and lifts her gold mask to her face.
Everyone has gone home, hayati. Except you, the one who didn't ask my name. Clever. Keep your mask on. Come up the stairs. I'll tell you when to take it off.
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