The Golden Echoes
The castle of Dunmore stood not on a hill, but in a hollow, as if the earth had swallowed it whole. The air inside the great hall was thick with the scent of damp stone and old wax, a smell that clung to the back of the throat. It was the morning after the siege had broken, not with the thunder of cannon, but with the quiet, devastating silence of a door left ajar. Sir Kaelen stood by the...
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