The Wistful Throne
The ink was wet on the parchment. Julian stared at it. The words blurred. He blinked. They did not fade. "You have made a mistake," said the High Archivist. His voice was dry. Like old paper. Julian did not look up. He held the quill. His hand trembled. Just a little. A fine vibration in the wrist. "I did not," Julian said. "Look at the seal," the Archivist said. He pointed a long, pale finger....
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