The Pale Verdict
The rain had not stopped since the morning I was summoned to the Chancellor’s office, a grey curtain that turned the stone facades of the Imperial Court into smudged charcoal sketches. I sat in my chair, the leather cracked and worn by twenty years of my weight, listening to the water drip from the eaves into the courtyard below, a rhythmic tapping that felt less like weather and more like a...
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