The Distant Crown
Act I I was hauling the last bundle of thatch over my shoulder when the dream took me, the weight of the straw pressing into the damp wool of my tunic until I could not tell where the roof ended and my spine began. The golden crown dissolved into ash in the dark of my mind, a fine, grey powder that choked my lungs, and I woke on the floor of the thatched shed, the clay rattle of my sister’s...
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