The Distant Crown
Elias woke with the taste of iron on his tongue and the weight of a golden crown pressing against his skull. It was a fever dream, sharp and metallic, born of three days without bread and the damp chill of the Guildhall cellar. He pushed himself up on trembling arms, the stone floor biting into his knees. His hands shook. They always shook now. The hunger had moved past the stomach into the...
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