The Golden Farce
The hall smelled of roasted pork and damp wool, a thick, suffocating perfume that clung to the back of my throat and settled in the creases of my leather jerkin, and I stood at the edge of the feast table, watching the candlelight flicker against the stone walls of the keep where I had served as the lord’s counsel for twenty years, knowing that the moment of reckoning had finally arrived, not...
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