The Faded Alibi
The Duke’s seal was a red wax circle, smooth and unblemished, pressing against the rough grain of the oak table. Elara stared at it, her fingers white-knuckled around the handle of a clay pot so old it had turned the color of dried blood. The air in the tribunal hall was thick with the scent of tallow and damp wool, a heavy, suffocating mix that made it difficult to draw a full breath. Before...
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