The Wistful Throne
Chapter One The sawdust in the air tasted of iron and old rain. Remedios Zamora sat on the floor of the Guild office, her knees drawn to her chest, while the rain hammered against the single windowpane. Outside, the logging scar on the hillside gaped like a fresh wound in the earth, black against the grey sky. She wanted her license. That was the only thing that mattered now. The Guild master,...
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