The Distant Crown
The rain fell in a steady, rhythmic drumming against the high, arched windows of the Magistrate’s office, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the very floorboards of the old building. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of damp wool and stale tobacco, a heavy atmosphere that pressed against the lungs like a physical weight. Silas Vance sat in the corner, his posture rigid, his hands...
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