The Wistful Throne

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 00:21:03 -

The morning you left, the mist clung to the valley like a shroud that refused to be peeled away, thick and damp, smelling of wet stone and old iron. You walked away from the manor house, your boots heavy with the mud of the lower fields, while the rest of the watch stood silent on the porch. They were a strange lot, those men of the Holloway estate. They did not speak much, their faces set in...

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