The Faded Photograph
The ink on the parchment had not yet dried when the rain began to fall, a cold, persistent sheet that turned the cobblestones of the courtyard into a mirror of grey sky. Silas stood by the high window, his fingers tracing the edge of the document, feeling the rough texture of the vellum beneath his calloused skin. He was a man who had spent his life in the shadows of the court, a scribe to the...
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