The Wistful Campus
The heat in the King’s Hall was a physical weight, pressing against Elias Thorne’s chest like a damp wool blanket. He stood before the dais, his fingers white-knuckled around the handle of a cracked porcelain lily, the only object he had brought from his father’s modest home in the borderlands. Lord Vane, the Minister of Archives, leaned back in his high-backed chair, the leather creaking under...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen