The Wistful Throne
The gate of the Ironworks was a slab of rusted iron, bolted shut against the November wind of 1912. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood before it, his breath pluming in the cold air, watching Captain Halloway’s carriage recede down the muddy track. Thorne wanted to prove his worth. He wanted to stay behind, to manage the factory’s output with the precision of a soldier, to show that his loyalty was not...
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