The Distant Crown
The train cut through the fog like a blade of rust. I sat by the window, watching the gray dissolve into the black. We were heading to the capital. To the palace. To the place where the old laws still held breath in their throats. My name is Elias Thorne. I am a keeper of things that no longer exist. A historian of silence. I had been summoned by the Prime Minister’s office. Not with a letter....
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