The Wistful Saga
"Is it done, then? Have you packed the ledger?" Mara’s voice was flat, stripped of the warmth that had once made the kitchen feel like a hearth. Elias stood by the door, his satchel heavy with the weight of his own decision. He nodded, not trusting his throat to form words. The air between them was thick, stale, smelling of dust and the dried lavender hanging from the rafters. He wanted the...
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