The Pale Exile

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2026-08-22 12:58:41 -

The Pale Exile

The carriage wheels groaned against the packed earth. It was a sound of friction. Of resistance. The sky above was a bruised purple. It promised rain but gave only cold. Margaret sat in the back. She held her hat with both hands. The hat was black. The ribbons were loose. They flapped in the wind like tired wings. She was going to the court. Or rather, she was being sent to the court. The...

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