The Distant Affair

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2026-08-18 06:57:32 -

The feast was loud. It was a roar of silver and wine. The hall smelled of roasting boar and wet wool. I stood in the corner. My hands were still. My hands were always still. I was a maker of keys. Small, iron keys. The kind that fit into the locks of the great men. The lord sat high. He wore a cloak of black velvet. His eyes were bright. They did not blink. He watched me. He watched the crowd....

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