The Wistful Throne
The letter lay on the oak desk, the paper yellowed and brittle, smelling of damp earth and old ink. It was dated October 14, 1893, and the handwriting was my own, though the tremor in the loops of the letters frightened me. I read the first line again, my thumb pressing the crease flat, trying to steady the hand that had written it. I am Arthur Penhaligon, Royal Archivist, and I have come to...
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