The Faded Frontier
The parchment lay on the oak table, its surface slick with the condensation of the cellar, and Elias Thorne stared at the rejection letter until the ink blurred into a smear of grey water. It was a short note, three lines in the dry, angular hand of Alderman Halloway, stating that the survey of the northern ridge was incomplete and that the Duke’s office required a final, verifiable copy by the...
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