The Faded Shield
The carriage wheels bit into the gravel of the King’s highway, shaking the floorboards of the estate until the dust settled in the hollows of Margaret Holloway’s cheekbones. She sat rigid against the velvet seat, her hands folded in her lap, fingers intertwined with a tightness that whitened the knuckles. The air outside was thick with the scent of wet stone and old rain, a heavy, suffocating...
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