The Distant Crown
The first thing I heard was the tick of the radiator, a dry, metallic percussion that marked the seconds in the empty archive room. I counted them as I stacked the ledgers, one, two, three, up to the fortieth, each spine cracked and smelling of dust and old varnish. This was the Royal Menagerie’s final inventory, the last paper trail of an institution the Ministry had decided was a waste of...
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