Ophelia is so entirely unprepared for the joke, still caught up in her moment of vulnerability, that she laughs before she can help it. It's an odd feeling, the one that settles in her chest. Not quite happiness, and yet, not quite regret, either. "Even as an infant, you never could shut up," she quietly agrees. "I imagine you were babbling about some great poison in babyspeak, even then."
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