The Faded Shield
The frost had settled upon the windowpanes of the Great Hall in a pattern that resembled nothing so much as the fractured glass of a mirror, a jagged web of white ice that trapped the cold against the stone and held the warmth of the hearth at a painful distance. Elara stood before the central dais, her spine rigid not from the chill that seeped through her woolen bodice, but from the weight of...
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