The Curse's Manipulation

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"Master, when will you finally reveal yourself to her?" Kangee squawked, "At this rate, she'll think you're a ghost! Next thing you know, she'll be scattering salt on her windowsill to ward you off!"

Donovan sat in his private chamber, back in the shadowspire, his raven's blunt words echoing in the silence. His loose hair cascaded to his shoulders, and he wore a flowing white outfit, complete with a translucent robe that billowed behind him like mist.

The sun streaming through the opened window casted a warm, golden light on his profile, illuminating the chiseled line of his face and highlighting the mysterious allure that surrounded him.

"I suppose she'd prefer a ghost to a demon," Donovan murmured, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Kangee perched on the table beside him, and it observed its master's feature, noticing it had never seen its master so visibly disturbed, or even annoyed.