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... rdered, Your Majesty, and set an example."

Huh?

Execution again?

I blinked from my perch on the Imperial Throne of Doomsday—also known as Papa’s lap—my cookie halfway to my mouth.

Must been those pesky nobles who acted like drunken chickens while Papa was away. You know, barking orders, throwing coins, and probably plotting something treasonous while stepping in goose poop. Classic noble behavior.

I should be shocked by the E-word.

...

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