The Distant Summer

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2026-08-21 17:51:37 -

"You are not a man," the Bishop said. His voice was dry, like leaves skittering over stone. "You are a stain. A smudge of sin that will not wash out." Silence held the room. The air smelled of cold ash and old wood. Maren stood by the hearth. She did not shiver. She had forgotten how to shiver. She looked at her hands. They were long. Pale. The nails were trimmed short, clean. They looked like...

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