The Faded Bouquet
The ink in my ledger had frozen into a black, jagged crust by the time I finished counting the three hundred and twelve pages of the Order’s annual expenditure reports, a task that had consumed the last four hours of the night shift and left my fingers numb against the cold, damp stone of the desk. I am Elias Thorne, Senior Inquisitor of the Order of the Silver Veil, and I have spent the last...
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