The Pale Tower
The parchment lay on the table of black oak, its edges curling slightly in the damp air of the Great Hall. It was a writ of execution, signed in the High Justicar’s dry, angular hand, and it named Elian Ashworth, son of Sir Kaelen, for the crime of stealing the King’s signet ring. Kaelen did not read the words again; he had already memorized the ink’s stain, the way it looked like a bruise on...
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