The Distant Ghost
The ledger weighed forty pounds, a dense block of vellum and iron-gall ink that Margaret Holloway had to lift from the cold stone floor before the sun could fully breach the high, arched windows of the Chancery. She counted the entries as she lifted, her fingers numb from the damp that seeped through the wool of her sleeves, tallying the debts of the Crown against the silence of the room where...
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