The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-23 09:52:49 -

The Faded Alibi

The barley sacks were weighed, counted, and stacked against the north wall of the great hall, each one bearing the seal of the Duke’s granary, a heavy duty that smelled of damp straw and old sweat. Elias Thorne, forty years of service etched into the lines of his face and the calluses on his hands, stood at the head of the table, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as he watched the young...

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