The Golden Song
The feast in the Great Hall of the Abbey of St. Jude’s was a cacophony of clashing silver and the heavy, cloying scent of roasted boar and spiced wine, a sensory assault that vibrated in my teeth like a struck bell, while I stood in the shadows of the archway, my hands trembling not with hunger but with the terrified anticipation of a man who knows he is about to be judged by a god he does not...
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