The Golden Suspect

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2026-08-17 14:11:57 -

The hall smelled of roasted pheasant and old stone. Candles guttered in brass sconces, casting long, trembling shadows that danced against the wainscoting like restless spirits. Captain Elias Thorne stood by the hearth, his uniform immaculate, his hands clasped behind his back. He was a man of the old guard, rigid in posture, soft in voice. The air was thick with the clinking of silver and the...

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