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... s, looking over the marshling as she gawked at the provided dish. It wasn’t even remotely pizza. Not that either of them would know what pizza was, aside from the times when Theo might have told them. They were served flatbread with melted cheese and butter, which was as much like pizza as any tomato-based soup was. She must have been drawing from his mind for some joke no one but her got. And there was no way the marshling would elaborate.

“Yes, well,” Sarisa said, taking her seat and c ...

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