The Wistful Crossroads

أضاف وظيفة جديدة Literature

2026-08-22 12:36:00 -

The frost bit at my fingernails before I even reached the door. I am Ewan, thirty-two, and I have worn my father’s iron cloak for seven years. It is heavy, cold, and alive. The Duke stood by the hearth, his back to the fire, sneering at the tremor in my hands. "Soft-handed boy," he said, the words sharp as flint. "Your father was a wolf. You are a mouse." The prejudice against my lineage was a...

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