Novel excerpts

The ink dries, the parchment curling slightly at the edges, and you send your proclamation out across Moravice and the surrounding lands. Word spreads like wildfire. Continue Reading →

The advisors arrived in Moravice under the cover of a brisk spring morning. Their ships glided into the harbor, banners fluttering in the wind with the imperial crest of Claudius gleaming in gilt and silver. Continue Reading →

The dawn bleeds thin light through the mists, washing the streets of Moravice in pale, colorless hues. Continue Reading →

You rode to Margaret, and she was waiting at the meeting point you had agreed on—a lonely stretch of birch and stone overlooking the misted shore, her figure half-shrouded in dawnlight, as if she had been standing there for hours, waiting not just for you, but for the fate that would follow in your wake. Continue Reading →

You sit alone in the quiet of the study, the weight of the parchment in your hand pressing like lead against your chest. Continue Reading →

The sea is cold, biting at your fingers as the wind whips across the deck of the ship. Aldebryn fades behind you, its stone walls shrinking into the morning mist, and ahead lies the route to Moravice: Continue Reading →

Dawn seeps into the ruins of Moravice like a ghost reluctant to touch the living. You stay. You do not mount your horse. Continue Reading →

The road north stretches like a wound through the land. Each hoofbeat is a memory — the sound of home reduced to echo. Continue Reading →

Winter descended upon Aldebryn like a slow and heavy tide. The sea darkened to slate, and the wind that once smelled of salt and freedom now carried the sharp sting of uncertainty. Continue Reading →

The decision is made before dawn.

You stand at the window of your chamber in Aldebryn, the sea below still cloaked in mist. The gulls cry above the gray waves, restless and hungry. Behind you, Margaret stirs, her voice soft but steady. Continue Reading →