The Distant Crown
Act I Alice Priddy’s fingers moved over the keys, the clatter sharp against the damp air of the office. She was typing the resignation letter, the ink wet and black on the page. The Crown Moth sat on the ledger, its wings a blur of spectral gray, marking her as a target. It did not fly. It waited. The High Chancellor had accepted her resignation, a final humiliation before the winter freeze set...
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