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“Tea is for old men who scratch their armpits.” said Guur. “Bring me something stronger.”
“Finish the tea.” Uma said. “Hold down a bowl of broth for an hour. Then we’ll talk about your fondness for what passes for alcohol in this backward town of yours.”
“Uh. Sister. Why are you in my bedroom?”
“May I answer that?” I asked. When she nodded, I said, “Larger brother, elder brother, you are in the feasting hall. We knew you would want...”
“Idiot.” Guur said, pu ...
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