The Distant Affair
Seal it, Elias. The words hung in the air, cold and sharp as the stone floor beneath my boots. I stood in the antechamber of the King’s bedchamber, my satchel heavy with the tools of my trade, and looked at Lord Chancellor Vane. He did not move. His face was a mask of bureaucratic indifference, the kind that cost a man his dignity before he had even spoken. I had come to transcribe the dying...
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