The Wistful Petal
Thorne. The summons came not from a voice but from the scratching of a quill against parchment, a sound that cut through the silence of the High Court of Aethelgard like a knife through silk. I am Elias Thorne, thirty-two, a scribe of no rank and no future, and I want to secure my permanent tenure by transcribing the King’s lost genealogy; the opposing force is the Court’s rigid hierarchy,...
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