The Distant Garden
The summons came not as a letter but as a sound, a sharp, wet inhalation from the corridor outside Arthur Vane’s office, followed by the heavy thud of boots on the parquet floor. The Imperial Horticultural Bureau smelled of damp earth and floor wax, a scent that had permeated Arthur’s woolen coat over the twenty years he had spent cataloging the state’s botanical assets, a smell that now seemed...
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