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... re a hole in the wall designed to shuttle food in and garbage out without the nobles having to smell either. I slipped through just as a harried-looking scullery maid kicked the door open with her hip, balancing a tower of dirty plates.
"Watch it, you lout!" she snapped, not even looking at my face. "More wine for the High Table! Move!"
"Right, wine. On it," I mumbled, ducking my head.
I stepped into the kitchen. It was a chaotic inferno of steam, shouting chefs, and roas ...
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