The Wistful Show

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2026-08-23 18:59:28 -

The Wistful Show

The air in the High King’s throne room tasted of copper and stale incense, a metallic tang that coated the back of Margaret’s throat as she knelt on the cold stone. She did not look up at the man on the throne, for she had memorized the angle of his chin and the way his fingers drummed against the armrests, a rhythmic tapping that sounded like a clock counting down to a catastrophe. "Your...

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