The Distant Affair
The quill tip scraped the vellum with a sound like a fingernail dragging across a slate, a dry, abrasive friction that cut through the heavy silence of the scriptorium. Elias kept his head down, his eyes fixed on the line of text he was copying, a list of grain tariffs from the previous harvest, though the numbers blurred into meaningless shapes as the shadows in the corner of the room began to...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews