The Distant Whispers
The ledger of the royal household recorded forty-seven pounds of dried herbs, twelve vials of distilled mercury, and three sacks of silver coins spent in the last month on the King’s care, a tally that Elias Whitmore checked with the obsessive precision of a man measuring out his own dwindling time. He sat in the high archivist’s office, a room that smelled of damp stone and the slow decay of...
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