The Pale Verdict
The mud in the courtyard of the Ashworth Palace was not just wet; it was a living thing, thick and black, sucking at the boots of the men who stood there. I stood in the center of it, my left hand a ruin of jagged bone and torn flesh, the blood dripping from my fingers to mix with the slush. I wanted to kill Kael. I wanted to kill him because the pension office had told me that if I did not...
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