The Distant Garden
Pilar Cortes, Imperial Gardener, twenty years of service, credentials invalid, access denied. The notice was pinned to the oak door of the Steward’s office, its ink still wet and smelling of iron and vinegar, a bureaucratic erasure that stripped my name from the registry of the court. I stood in the corridor, the heat of the palace pressing against my skin like a wet wool blanket, and I felt...
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