The Pale Tower

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2026-08-18 20:51:06 -

The Pale Tower

The banquet hall smelled of roasted goose and wet wool, a cloying mixture that seemed to hang in the air like a heavy, invisible curtain over the faces of the town elders. I sat at the end of the long oak table, my knees barely touching the floor, my hands folded tightly in my lap where the fabric of my tunic rubbed against skin that felt too large for the bones holding it up. My name is...

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