The Distant Cartograph
Chapter One The canal water moved with a slow, muscular weight, dragging the hulls of the barges past the stone walls that had stood for three centuries. In the third year of my reign as the palace’s cartographer, I pressed my palm against the damp brickwork of the lower gallery, feeling the rhythmic thumping that the High Steward dismissed as settling pipes, but which I knew, in the marrow of...
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