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... itchen table, plates in front of us. It was strange, no servants, no chefs, no guards,... just Isabella and me.
She picked up her fork delicately, poking at the eggs she had worked so hard to finish.
"Don’t just stare," she huffed, her cheeks still flushed.
"Eat."
I leaned my chin on my hand, watching her like she was the only thing in the world.
"I am eating. Eating with my eyes."
Her face turned an even deeper shade of red.
"I—haaah~! You ...
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