The Golden Harbor
The order was written in ink that had dried to a black scab on the parchment. *Surrender the blade of the late Captain Thomas Thorne. By command of the Duke. Immediate compliance required.* I held the paper up to the flickering tallow candle, the wax dripping onto my glove, hot and stinging. The document was a formal thing, stamped with the King’s seal, yet it felt like a death warrant for...
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