The Faded Guest
Act I "You’ll find the northern post cold, but the silence is good for the soul," the Commander said, his smile not reaching his eyes. Estrid Dahl stood by the fire, his coat still smelling of the harbor frost. He was thirty-two, a border guard with a back that ached from years of hauling crates in the salt wind, and he looked at the Commander’s wife, Ingrid, who was laughing at something her...
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