The Pale Door
The letter lay on the table, the wax seal broken, the ink still damp where the scribe had pressed his thumb. It was a writ of forfeiture, signed by the Duke of Aldermoor, stating that the estate of Bradshaw had been seized for unpaid levies and treasonous silence. I read it twice, my fingers tracing the jagged lines of the script, feeling the rough grain of the parchment under my nails. The...
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