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2010-10-15 07:29 pm (UTC)
Her brow furrows as she chews, looking at him over the top of the container.
"You keep calling me that." She gestures idly with her fork.
She's never thought of herself as anything other than a peasant. As much as any number of people tried to hold her in grand esteem, she never sought out a place in the limelight. Perhaps Gesar did her no favours by making her the instrument of his right hand, friend and sometimes lover, but mostly the one who held her leash. Even with the Revolution, a political movement that moved strangely through the world of Others, she refused to take a position of leadership, of power, even though some would say it was hers by right of birth.
"I know, it is how you were raised, but you know, there is probably more shit caked to my boots than yours."
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