The Distant Crown
The air in the Great Hall of the Blackstone Keep hung heavy with the scent of roasted boar and stale ale, a thick, cloying fog that clung to the wool of the doublets and the fur of the cloaks worn by the assembled lords and ladies, a sea of shifting colors and murmured whispers that seemed to rise from the floorboards like the heat from the central hearth. Here, in the heart of the ancient...
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