The Golden Quest
The ink was black, but Thomas’s hands were not. They were stained with the faint, yellowish residue of the wax seal he had broken an hour prior, a seal that bore the crest of the King’s own household. He sat at his desk in the scribe’s quarter, a room that smelled of damp wool and old parchment, and watched the light from the high window slide across the floorboards. It was late afternoon in...
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