The Distant Crown

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2026-08-19 20:29:02 -

The Distant Crown

The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed a relentless, gray rhythm against the high, narrow windows of the Keep, a sound that settled into the bones of Sir Alistair Thorne like a dull ache. He sat alone in the great hall, the fire dying to embers in the hearth, the air thick with the scent of wet stone and old wood. The seal on his left hand was a thing of living ink, a brand of...

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