The Distant Temple

added blog Literature

2026-08-26 02:20:34 -

The Minister’s laugh was dry, like the sound of old paper tearing. "Dead wood," he said, tapping the air where my trembling hand hovered. "You cannot polish a mirror with a dead branch, Arthur. The King requires precision, not sentiment." I looked down at my fingers. The tremor was no longer a secret. It shook the quill, it shook the tea cup, and it shook the shards of porcelain in the tray...

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