The Golden Crossing
The pen hovered over the resignation letter, the nib trembling so slightly that the ink bled into the fibers of the heavy, cream-colored paper. Elias Thorne did not look up. His eyes were fixed on the seal of the court, a lion rampant holding a sword, a symbol of justice that had cost his father twenty years of his life and the rest of his sanity. The room was cold, the kind of dry chill that...
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