The Distant Blade

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 10:16:40 -

The Distant Blade

The fire ate the palace. I watched from the gallery. Smoke curled in thick ropes. It smelled of wet wool and old wood. My hands shook. Not from fear. From cold. The glass was broken. Shards cut my palms. I did not feel the pain. Lord Ashworth stood below me. He held a blade. It was not a sword. It was a kitchen knife. Long and dull. He walked toward the throne. The throne was empty. Only dust...

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