The Wistful Letter

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2026-08-19 02:34:24 -

The hall was a throat of stone and shadow, wide enough to swallow a hundred men whole, and it smelled of wet wool, stale wine, and the metallic tang of fear that clung to the air like a second skin, a scent that had permeated the very mortar of the walls since the last siege when the rain had turned the courtyards into a slurry of mud and blood that refused to dry for weeks. Sir Aldric stood at...

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