The Pale Fracture
Chapter One Could a wall remember the shape of a man who had pressed his face against it until the bone gave way? Thyra Dahl stood before the Citadel’s outer gate, the sea fret erasing the archipelago behind her until the world was only white noise and the grit of silt in her teeth. She held the dowry purse in one hand, the leather stiff with cold, and the other hand gripped the hilt of a knife...
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