The Distant Crown

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2026-08-19 12:46:01 -

The Distant Crown

The dream was cold. It was a vast, gray ocean with no horizon. Margaret stood on a deck made of black iron. The wind tore at her coat. She felt a pull in her chest. It was not pain. It was weight. She woke in the narrow cot of her office. The air smelled of stale coffee and damp wool. She sat up. The clock on the wall ticked. It was six in the morning. The office of the Department of Internal...

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