The Faded Paradox
The smell of roasted lamb and heavy, spiced wine hung in the air of the great hall, thick and cloying as the smoke from the hearth, a scent that seemed to coat the back of the throat and settle in the lungs like a second skin, while the candlelight flickered and danced against the stone walls, casting long, trembling shadows that stretched across the oak table where we sat, the lord of the...
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