The Pale Bonsai

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2026-08-22 21:00:14 -

The Pale Bonsai

The ink was still wet on the ledger when I heard the cough. It was a wet, rattling sound, like a stone rolling down a throat of glass. I stood in the antechamber of the Pale Palace, my satchel heavy with the root, and waited. The Emperor’s breathing was the only clock that mattered here. I had twelve days until the winter solstice. If he did not breathe cleanly by then, the Court of Standards...

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