The Wistful Mountain

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 07:47:55 -

The feast was held in the great hall of the manor, the air thick with the scent of roasted lamb, spiced wine, and the damp earth that seeped through the ancient stone foundations. I sat at the far end of the table, a prisoner in my own skin, wearing a cloak of deep violet wool that had once belonged to my mother. It was a heavy garment, woven with threads of gold that caught the candlelight...

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