The Wistful Throne
Chapter One Could a body be stolen from the dead? Ronan Prendergast woke to the sound of the bell, silenced now, and the smell of rotting sage. He was thirty-two, a falconer to a minor lord in the rice valley, and his hands were shaking. In the infirmary, the High Steward’s men barred the chapel doors. Maeve, his sister, lay stiff on the table. The fever had taken her, but the Steward wanted...
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