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... g. Fidgeting. Its tiny tail curling and uncurling with obvious agitation.
Elara continued writing—cross-referencing merchant contracts with patrol schedules, looking for patterns in who had access to the palace kitchen when her tea had been poisoned. Her pen moved with mechanical precision across the paper.
Finally, she set it down.
"Is there anything you want to say?" she asked without looking up. "Just say it. Stop disturbing me."
The System didn’t hesitate.
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