The Distant Whispers

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 13:55:08 -

Act I The water in the loom room upstairs runs thin, and it tastes of iron, a fact that has not changed since the elders last allocated the shares. I am Catriona Balfour, though the name means little now that I sit unpaid for the season, my hands stained with the dust of the temple garden I tend for no coin. My son, Ewan, needs his medical tuition by the end of the month, a sum of forty pounds...

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