The Faded Road
The silver cufflinks sat in your palm, heavy and warm, their metal surfaces pulsing with a rhythm that matched the erratic, fluttering beat of your own failing heart. You are Elias Thorne, a fifty-two-year-old court marshal, and you have spent the last three hours in the dusty silence of the Duke’s private study, trying to convince yourself that the heat radiating from the silver is merely a...
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