The Wistful Throne

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2026-08-18 05:15:10 -

The fog in the capital did not lift. It thickened. It pressed against the windows of the High Court like a living thing, gray and cold and hungry. Miles Vane stood in the shadows of the gallery. He was a thin man, made of angles and silence. He wore the gray coat of an investigator, but the rank insignia was missing. He had removed it himself. Three days ago. No one had noticed. Or perhaps no...

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