The Faded Sutra
The vial in your hand is heavy with the promise of sleep, a thick, amber suspension of valerian root and wildflower honey that has taken you three years to perfect, yet you know with the cold certainty of a man who has spent two decades grinding dried roots in a dark cellar that it is already lost, because Sir Julian Vane, the Royal Physician whom you pulled from a fever that should have killed...
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