The Golden Harbor
The salt air in the high gallery of the Blackwood Palace did not smell of the sea, but of wet iron and old dust, a scent that had settled into the very limestone bones of the tower where Dr. Elias Thorne had spent the last forty years cataloging the kingdom’s forgotten relics, a man whose hands were stained permanently with the indigo of his ink and whose eyes, behind the thick, clouded lenses...
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