The Pale Tower
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, gray sheet that blurred the boundary between the stone ramparts and the sky, so that the keep of Oakhaven seemed less like a fortress and more like a bruise on the earth. I stood in the center of the great hall, my hands clasped behind my back, feeling the cold seep through the wool of my doublet. It was not a cold of temperature, but of...
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