The Wistful Throne
Chapter One "You’re holding it too tight, Nune." The old warden, Sarkis, coughed into his sleeve, the sound wet and heavy in the small, stone room. Nune Popescu did not loosen his grip on the iron bar. The metal was cold, but beneath the frost, it hummed with a faint, green vibration. It was the Green Rot. It had started in the hinges of the outer door three days ago, a slick, mossy film that...
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