The Pale Verdict

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2026-08-18 01:11:29 -

The Pale Verdict

The banquet hall smelled of roasting lamb and wet wool, a heavy, cloying scent that seemed to settle in the marrow of my bones. I sat at the far end of the long oak table, my knees barely touching the floorboards, watching the steam rise from the silver tureens as if it were a ghost refusing to leave the living. Lord Alistair sat at the head, his face a mask of benevolent boredom, while his...

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