The Golden Farce

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2026-08-18 03:25:51 -

The Golden Farce

The fire roared. It ate the oak beams. It drank the tapestry. The heat was a physical weight, pressing against the chest. Lord Alistair sat in the corner. He did not look at the flames. He looked at the door. The door was iron-banded. It was shut. Outside, the siege engines thumped. A low, rhythmic pulse. *Thud. Thud. Thud.* Like a slow, diseased heart. "You are quiet," said a voice. It was...

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