The Wistful Throne

added blog Literature

2026-08-23 06:32:06 -

The rain in the Highlands did not wash things clean; it only made the mud deeper and the cold more biting. I left the cottage at dawn, my boots heavy with the slurry of the previous night, the small iron key in my pocket humming a low, dissonant note against my hip. I was forty years old, though my heart beat with the erratic rhythm of a man twice that age, a condition that had plagued me since...

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