The Pale Dance
The carriage wheels bit into the frost. They made a sound like breaking teeth. Elias watched the palace gates close behind him. The iron bars were black. They were cold. He had worn them for three years. He had slept beneath their shadow. He had dreamed of the sky. He was leaving now. The snow fell in thick, silent flakes. It covered the cobblestones. It covered the dead. It covered the truth....
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