The Golden Quest
The rain had not stopped for three days. It drummed against the slate roof of the manor, a persistent, hollow rhythm that matched the throbbing in your temples. You sat in the corner of the drawing room, your hands wrapped around a bowl of broth that had long since gone cold. The fire had died to embers, leaving the room in a bruised twilight. You were a sinner, or so the village whispered. A...
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