The Pale Letter
"Your hand shakes, Ser Aldous." The words hung in the cold air of the throne room. They were small words. Quiet words. But they carried weight. Heavy weight. Like stones in a pocket. Aldous did not look up. He looked at his own fingers. They were long. Thin. The knuckles were swollen. The skin was pale. Like paper. Like bone. He saw the tremor. He had seen it for weeks. A fine, high-pitched...
0 Reacties 0 aandelen 1 Views 0 voorbeeld