The Wistful Throne

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 02:28:02 -

The rain had stopped. The air smelled of wet iron and old stone. I stood at the edge of the cliff, watching the mist curl around the base of the mountain. My pack was heavy. It was heavier than it should have been. I could feel the weight of the gold in my pockets, pressing against my hip like a second heartbeat. I was a merchant. I dealt in silk and salt. I did not deal in secrets. Or curses....

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