The Pale Banner
The parchment lay flat on the oak desk, its surface slick with a sheen that was not quite ink, and Elias held the edge of it with fingers that felt more like wire than flesh. It was the final draft of the King’s edict, a document that would redistribute the grain stores of the northern provinces, and yet the High Chancellor, a man whose breath smelled of dried sage and copper, did not look at...
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