The Distant Garden
The burin trembles. You hold it against the copper, the tip bright as a needle, and the air in Oakhaven hums, a low static that makes the ink bleed if you hesitate. You are Elias, forty-two, a master engraver, and this is the final plate for the Duke’s commission. It is the only thing standing between you and freedom, a debt of thirty years that has eaten your youth and left your hands shaky....
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