The Distant Legend
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, sealed with the heavy, black wax of the Whitmore family crest. I opened it in the dusty quiet of the archive, the smell of decaying paper thick in my throat. Lord Whitmore’s accusation was blunt, a blade of ice wrapped in legalese: I had stolen the estate’s primary ledger, and my employment was terminated effective immediately. The shock was not that he had...
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