The Distant Garden
The feast in the Great Hall of Oakhaven was a cacophony of clinking goblets and roasted pork, the air thick with the scent of rosemary and the damp wool of thirty scholars who had gathered to celebrate my tenure as Chair of Arcane Botany. I stood by the window, my back to the room, watching the rain streak the stained glass, my mind not on the wine but on the manuscript tucked inside my...
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