The Pale Path
The parchment lay flat on the desk, its edges curled slightly from the damp air that seeped through the high, narrow windows of the scribe’s tower. Elara read the King’s final decree for the third time, her eyes tracing the inked lines with the mechanical precision that had kept her employed for fifteen years in the court of King Aldous. The document was a mess of contradictions, a legal trap...
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