The Distant Summer
The rain did not fall so much as it settled, a grey, suffocating curtain that erased the boundary between the moor and the sky. Inside the stone keep of Dunbar, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool and old iron. Elias sat in the corner of the great hall, his hands folded tightly in his lap, the knuckles white. He was a man who had forgotten how to speak without apologizing. For twenty...
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