The Wistful Campus

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2026-08-22 09:17:55 -

The carriage wheels groaned against the cobblestones of the King’s Lane, a rhythmic, grinding sound that matched the ache in Thomas Bradshaw’s shoulders as he approached the High Court, the air thick with the scent of damp wool and the metallic tang of impending judgment. He was thirty years old, a man carved from the same hard, unyielding wood as the oaks that lined the royal forest, and he...

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