The Faded Root
The orchid sat in the crock of your hands, its white petals trembling slightly in the draft that slipped through the cracked window of the botanist’s office. It was a Phalaenopsis, a rare strain you had coaxed from a dying cutting three winters ago, and it was the only thing in the world that could pay the debt your father had left behind. The King’s demand had arrived an hour ago, a sealed...
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