The Distant Crown

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2026-08-22 06:18:15 -

The Distant Crown

The train moved with a grinding, metallic patience, slicing through the gray fog that clung to the valley like a shroud. Inside the carriage, the air was stale, thick with the scent of damp wool and old tobacco. Margaret sat by the window, her reflection ghosting over the dark glass. She was not watching the scenery. She was watching the object in her lap. It was a small, tarnished mirror, no...

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