The Wistful Voyage
The carriage wheels ground against the cobblestones of the Royal Palace’s lower courtyard, a sound that resonated in the hollows of Sir Edmund’s chest with the dull, rhythmic persistence of a failing heart, and he stood upon the threshold of the gatehouse, his gauntlets still clenched around the hilt of a sword that felt less like a weapon and more like a burden of cold, unyielding iron, as the...
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