that’d add up to a lot more than four hundred ranmyas over time. Seems like a better deal for the city if you let me take ‘em back to the farm.” “I’m not the one paying for their meals,” the corporal muttered, but he glanced at his subordinate, who waited hopefully in the doorway. “All right, get them out.” “That’s kind of you, sir.” Amaranthe smiled, and it was no act. The corporal grumbled under his breath, disappeared into the office for a moment, and returned with paperwork. He laid the four sheets on the desk, stamped them closed, and scribbled something intentionally illegible in the box
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