The Distant Temple
The table was long. It held forty chairs. It held silver tureens. It held glasses of wine that looked like dark blood. It held silence. Maren sat at the head. Her back was straight. Her hands were still. They lay flat on the white linen. They did not tremble. She watched the doors. She waited for the sound. She heard the creak of the floorboards. She heard the shuffling of feet. She saw the...
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