The Wistful Incense
The ledger of the High Chancellor’s court was not a book of laws but a ledger of debts, and Elias Thorne stood before its keeper, watching the clerk count the coins in his purse with a precision that felt like a surgeon counting stitches before closing a wound. There were forty gold sovereigns, the sum of his final month’s pay, laid out on the velvet table in neat, trembling rows, each coin a...
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