The Pale Dance

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2026-08-22 13:39:35 -

The Pale Dance

The sleet had been falling since dawn, a wet, heavy gray that turned the road into a slurry of mud and ice, and Elias Thorne drove the supply cart with a cough that felt like tearing paper inside his chest, the rattling of the wheels over the cobbles doing little to mask the wet, heavy sound of his own lungs. He was forty-two, though the last three winters at Kael’s Keep had aged him a decade,...

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