The Pale Exile

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2026-08-24 00:00:58 -

The Pale Exile

The frost on the tower windowpane was thick enough to scrape with a knife, but the cold that truly bit was the silence in the High Chancellor’s office. I stood there, my hands clasped behind my back, feeling the rough wool of my scribe’s tunic itch against my skin. I was forty-two years old, and I had spent thirty of them grinding ink and copying decrees in the frozen court of King Aldric. I...

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