The Distant Garden
The iron ring sits in your palm, cold and heavy, a weight that pulls your wrist down toward the stone floor. You are Elias, thirty-two years old, a scribe in the court of King Aldric, and you have just taken the Grand Seal from the King’s neck. It is not an act of theft, not in the way the law understands the term, but a transfer of burden. The King did not stop you. He looked at you with a...
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