The Distant Wound
Aldric. The name hit the air like a stone thrown through a window. It came from the High Steward, a man whose voice had gone dry as parchment. Aldric looked up from the executioner’s block. He was forty years old. He had served the Crown for twenty. He wanted to kill Kael. He wanted to do it quickly. He wanted to stop the bleeding in the state. Kael sat on the floor of the throne room. He was...
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