The Distant Promise
The vial sits on the desk, its glass neck catching the candlelight like a frozen tear. You are Elias, forty years old, your spine curved from decades of bending over parchment, and you want the Seal. You want it for the dowry. You want it because without it, your daughter Margaret is a burden, a debt the Court will not honor. The King’s hierarchy is a stone wall, and your expertise is the...
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