The Golden Cellar

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2026-08-17 12:58:29 -

The Golden Cellar

The hall was bright. Too bright. Candles burned in silver candelabras, their flames steady and cold. They did not flicker. They did not smoke. The air smelled of beeswax and old stone. Margaret sat at the head of the table. She was a scholar of history. A keeper of records. Her hands were still. Her eyes were open. She watched the guests. They were many. They were few. They were all of them. A...

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