The Golden Quest
The ash tasted of iron and old smoke, a metallic grit that coated my teeth and settled deep in the hollows of my throat, a taste I had known since the day the city burned and the king’s writ was read from the broken steps of the cathedral. I stood in the courtyard of the High Court, the air thick with the scent of charred oak and unwashed bodies, my hand resting on the hilt of my sword which...
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