The Wistful Incense
The order was printed on heavy, cream-colored stock, the ink still wet and smelling faintly of iron and ozone. You read it twice, the words blurring in the smoke-choked air of the throne room. Execution. Duke Valerius. For treason. Your name was signed at the bottom, Elias Thorne, Imperial Guard, First Cohort. Your promotion was contingent on the deed. The debt collectors were already at Mara’s...
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