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Western Russia

"I thought you could drop him off at Drago's. You know how he would like that." Morgase turned to look at Erik. "Do you want to sleep with Mana tonight?"
 
Erik giggled, placing a tiny hand on his mother's face. "Ma-ma!" he replied excitedly, "Yuh-yuh-yus." He was having trouble pronouncing the word yes, but he was still trying.
 
Tristan smirked, transfiguring Lissandra into a large vase, looking rather like an urn. "I'll bring this to Drago right away," he said, moving into the bedroom to change into fitting clothes and then disapparating with a pop.
 
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