The Pale Tower

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-18 22:11:14 -

The Pale Tower

The banquet hall smelled of roasting venison and wet wool, a thick, cloying scent that seemed to cling to the back of your throat like a foreign tongue, and as you sat at the far end of the long oak table, your left hand rested flat on the wood, the knuckles white and trembling in a way that the other guests, drunk on mead and the promise of winter’s end, failed to notice. You are a man who has...

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