[Some pots, pans or other sort of dishes clatter - it sounds like an armful of them was just dumped in the sink. A second later there's the distinctive sound of a plate being shattered against the wall. Finally, there's Azula, sounding rather disgruntled.]
I can't go on like this. How do you people manage to survive without servants? I can't eat
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You don't strike me as the kind to trade favours for favours.
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[Self-sufficiency sounds good. At least it gives her an excuse.]
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...thank you for the advice.
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...you're welcome.
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[ Because he'd be willing to cook an extra share for a bit. ]
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