The Faded Alibi
The seal was red, wet, and final. You held the execution warrant for Julian Vane in your hands, the parchment thick and rough against your skin, the ink still glistening under the guttering tallow lights of the High Court. Your black judicial robe hung heavy around your shoulders, the fabric stiff with age and the weight of twenty years of service. At your throat, the silver clasp, a family...
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