The Distant Affair
The frost had hardened into a crust that cracked under the lieutenant’s boots, a sound like dry wood snapping in a silent room, and he did not bother to remove his gloves as he spoke, his voice a flat, administrative drone that cut through the iron-tasting air of the Hollow Keep. "You will kneel, Sentinel Thorne, or I will have the guardhouse doors welded shut and you will rot here until the...
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