The Wistful Throne

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2026-08-25 03:01:59 -

The bowl was cold in Elias’s hands, the porcelain rim jagged against his calloused thumb, a shard of white glaze catching the dim light of the tower chamber. He had held it for hours, turning the broken fragment over and over, feeling the sharp edge bite into his skin until a thin line of blood welled up, mixing with the dust that coated the table. This was the third time this week he had...

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