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Chapter 8: Where Joy Dies Quietly
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Chapter 10: The Duke, the Hot Spring, and My Sanity
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... ld despite the fire snapping in the hearth. Snow pressed hard against the windowpanes, a white curtain that made the world feel sealed away. I leaned over the desk, quill scratching across parchment, though my mind wasn’t on the ink.
The line of villagers outside still lingered in my vision—hollow cheeks, ribs sharp beneath rags, eyes dulled from waiting for boxes that wouldn’t even last a week. My hand trembled.
Gulp. Gulp. Gulp.
Alvar’s voice cut throug ...
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