The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-24 07:22:22 -

The Faded Alibi

The parchment lay on the oak table, the ink still wet and smelling of iron gall and vinegar. It was a formal notice of inquiry, signed by the Lord Chamberlain, regarding the irregularities in the King’s final weeks. You read it twice, your eyes tracing the bureaucratic language that stripped your twenty years of service down to a potential act of treason. The document demanded your presence...

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