The Distant Crown

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2026-08-21 19:28:01 -

The Distant Crown

The air in the Great Hall of the Abbey of St. Jude was thick, not with the usual scent of damp stone and tallow, but with the copper tang of fear and the stale, heavy perfume of the lavender bundles that Sister Agatha had hung from the rafters in a futile attempt to mask the smell of the impending siege. "Your grace," whispered Brother Thomas, his voice a dry rustle like dead leaves skittering...

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