The Distant Nightmare
The Iron Crown sits on a velvet cushion in the high tower, and it whispers. You hear it before you see it, a low hum that vibrates in the teeth. You are Elias, thirty-two years old, a royal guard with a sword that has never tasted blood. You want to kill Lord Vane. He holds the Crown. He holds your father’s life. Your father is dying in the infirmary below, his breath rattling like dry leaves,...
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