The banquet hall of the High Court of Veridia was not a place where people went to eat, but rather a place where they went to be digested by the air, thick as it was with the scent of roasted boar, expensive rosewater, and the metallic tang of old, unspoken grievances, and I stood at the far edge of the room, clutching the smooth, cold oval of the Obsidian Compass in my left hand, its weight a...
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