The Distant Joke
Chapter One "You’ll need more of the bitter root," the clerk said, his pen hovering over the ledger. "The King’s taste is changing." I nodded, my hands wrapped around the vial of distilled essence. It was cold against my palms, a slick, oily chill that seeped through the skin. We were in the study of the High Judge, a room that smelled of dried lavender and old paper. The walls were lined with...
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