The Distant Whispers

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 12:08:36 -

The feast was held in the great hall of the abbey, a place of stone and shadow where the air tasted of damp wool and old prayers. Margaret sat at the long table, her hands folded in her lap. The linen beneath her fingers was coarse, a texture she had come to know well. She did not look at the food. She looked at the seals pressed into the wax of the documents on the table. Red wax. Black wax....

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