The Distant Summer
The seal is flawed, you see it, do you not? The candlelight in the Great Hall of Alvaria shimmers, casting long, wavering shadows across the polished oak table where the treaty of peace lies open. You are Elias, thirty-two years old, and your hands are steady, but your heart hammers against your ribs like a trapped bird. You are a master calligrapher, the finest in the city, yet tonight you...
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