The Golden Harbor
The magistrate’s gavel had not yet fallen, but the silence in the small, damp courtroom of Blackwood was already heavy enough to break a man’s ribs. Elias Thorne stood at the center of the room, his hands bound by the invisible weight of the town’s gaze, clutching a brass object in his left palm so tightly that the metal bit into his skin. It was his father’s seal, or what was left of it. Three...
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