The Distant Crown
The letter lay on the cold stone of the workbench, its seal broken, the ink still damp from the Chancellor’s hasty scrawl. Elara read the prohibition twice, her fingers trembling not from fear but from the chill that had settled deep in her bones, a dampness that no fire could drive out. The document declared the Crown Lily a demonic lure, its cultivation a capital offense, and the penalty for...
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