The Distant Ghost
The salt of the shore does not dissolve in the blood. It crystallizes. I knew this before I ever held the Everroot, before I stepped into the Shadow Realm, and I know it now as the weight of the King’s illness settles into my marrow. I am Onna Orris. I was a scribe. I am no longer that. I dreamt of the court before I woke to the cold. The High Court of Aethelgard stood inverted, a forest of...
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