The Wistful Dinner
The iron stylus bit into the wax with a sound like a fingernail scraping a blackboard, a thin, high-pitched shriek that cut through the silence of the workshop. Elias held his breath, his knuckles white against the handle, watching the point of the tool tear a jagged, irregular line through the center of the royal decree seal. The sulfur smell was thick in the air, a cloying tang that coated...
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