The Distant Crown
The leather of the seal was cold under Elias Thorne’s thumbs, a chill that seemed to seep past the skin and settle in the marrow, as if the object itself were drawing heat from his body to keep its contents frozen in time. He held it in the center of the reading room, a space so vast and vaulted that the silence had weight, pressing against his eardrums with the force of deep water. Elias was...
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