The Wistful Throne
The left hand of Captain Elias Thorne struck the iron bedframe with a force that shattered the silence of the infirmary, the bone cracking against the metal in a sound like a dry branch snapping under a boot, and then the hand stopped, trembling in the damp air as if it had been an independent creature suddenly aware of its own violence. He lay in the narrow cot, the wool blanket coarse against...
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