The Distant Blade
The ledger had forty-three entries, each one a debt owed to the hospital, each one a stitch in the fabric of your impending ruin. You counted them twice, the numbers blurring at the edges of your vision, a soft gray fog that had become your constant companion since the winter solstice. The light in the palace office was thin, cutting through the dust motes suspended in the air like suspended...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews