The Faded Attic
The notice was nailed to the oak beam with a rusted nail, the paper brown and soft as old skin. It read: Levy due at the mill. No exceptions. The river does not wait. I am Radmila Karamyan, and I have kept the peace at the ferry crossing for twenty years. My hands are rough from the rope, and my back aches when the wind comes off the water. I am a falconer to the minor lord, Vahram, and I know...
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