The Wistful Throne

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2026-08-21 20:56:21 -

The rain fell hard on the cobblestones of the keep. It drummed against the stone, a relentless rhythm. Thomas Bradshaw walked the corridor. His boots were wet. The water seeped through the leather. It felt cold. It felt like ice. He did not shiver. He had forgotten how to shiver. He was a soldier. He wore the grey tunic of the Crown. The fabric was heavy. It weighed on his shoulders. It weighed...

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