The Wistful Cipher
I woke with the taste of black bile and burnt sugar on my tongue, a metallic sweetness that clung to the back of my throat like a second skin. It was the taste of the elixir, the concoction that Lord Vane’s apothecary had sworn was a cure for the wasting sickness, but which had instead turned my blood to something thick and slow. I lay in the narrow bed of the inn, the wool blanket heavy...
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