The Wistful Voyage
Chapter One "Seal it, then, if the King’s decree means nothing to your bones," Matteo said, his voice flat and cold as the stone floor beneath their feet. Francesco Grieco stood in the center of the great hall, the draft from the shattered window slicing through his doublet, and felt a rattle in his chest that was less a cough and more the grinding of a millstone. He was thirty-four years old,...
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