The Distant Blade

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2026-08-20 00:15:46 -

The Distant Blade

The snow had not stopped for three days. It fell in thick, gray curtains against the windowpanes of the Royal Kitchen, muffling the world outside until it felt like a held breath. I stood before the copper pot, my hands steady, my mind far away. The air smelled of rosemary and hot metal. It was the smell of my life. I had been the King’s head chef for twenty years. My name was Elias. I had...

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