The Distant Crown
The rain in London did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a gray veil that blurred the distinction between the cobblestones and the gaslit streets, until Arthur Pendelton finally pulled his carriage away from the curb of the Ministry of Internal Affairs, leaving behind the scent of wet wool and the heavy, metallic taste of a promise unkept. He had served the Crown for forty years, a man...
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