The Golden Suspect
The year was 1342, and the frost had settled into the bones of the village of Oakhaven, a silence so deep it seemed to press against the eardrums. Elara, thirty years old and withered by a worry that had no name, sat in the cellar where the air tasted of damp earth and old wood, her hands trembling around a silver knife. Her husband, Thomas, lay on the straw pallet above, his skin translucent...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews