The Wistful Throne
Thorne, the light is out. The voice came from the stairwell, harsh and thin against the howling wind, belonging to Silas Vane, the new engineer who had arrived three days prior with crates of brass gears and a mandate from the mainland. Elias Thorne stood in the center of the lamp room, his hands shaking so violently that the match he held had burned down to a white stub between his fingers,...
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