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... , pale confections dusted with frost sugar that glittered faintly under the palace light. Each plate was aligned with mathematical precision, edges parallel to the grain of the marble.
Hospitality, here, was ritual.
Only when the ritual concluded did Isolde speak.
"I do not deny," she said evenly, her voice smooth as untouched snow, "the presence of Invaders."
Her pale eyes settled on Duke, unhurried, unthreatened.
"But correlation does not equate to causa ...
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