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❝ Marie Antoinette. But just Marie is fine. ❞

She speaks. Her own name sounded so far away to her but it was still her.

She quietly pours the other some tea, asking:

❝ What’s your name, miss? ❞
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ㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤ•° both hands clasped in front of her at the invitation, uncertainty and gratefulness mixing together.

ㅤㅤ•° she approached and sat on the chair anyways, to be polite.

ㅤㅤ“Thank you for the generosity, miss ... .ᐣ”
ㅤㅤ

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