The Faded Portrait
The tower fell. Not all at once. It groaned first. A deep, tectonic shudder that vibrated through the soles of my boots. Then the stone cracked. Dust billowed like a gray ghost. I stood on the balcony. My hands were steady. My heart was not. I had served the Crown for twenty years. I had held the line at the river. I had kept the peace in the lowlands. But this was different. This was home. The...
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