The Gilded Mantle
The candles in Edinburgh Castle burned low when Alistair MacKenzie found the letter. It had been tucked behind a loose stone in the western tower, wrapped in oilcloth that smelled of damp and old secrets. Alistair, thirty-two years old and newly crowned Duke of the Highlands, should have been in his chambers celebrating. The coronation banquet had lasted until midnight. There had been music,...
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