The Distant Crown
The rain had turned the cobblestones of the Royal Quarter into black mirrors, reflecting the gaslights in warped, trembling streaks. Elias Thorne stood on the balcony, his hand white-knuckled around the hilt of his sword, watching the street below where his men had just failed to stop the thief. "Look at him, Captain," one of the guards muttered, his breath pluming in the cold night air. "He...
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