The Pale Exile
The petition was denied. Elias Thorne stood in the antechamber of the Imperial Court, the rejection letter heavy in his hand, its seal cold against his palm. He did not weep. He did not argue. He simply folded the paper, tucked it into his breast pocket, and turned to leave. The High Steward, a man named Aldous, watched him go with a look that was not quite pity, but certainly not respect. "You...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima