The Golden Suspect

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2026-08-19 08:51:29 -

The banquet hall smelled of roasted boar and wet wool, a thick, cloying scent that hung in the air like a second skin. It was the Feast of the Long Night, and the city of Ashenhold was draped in shadows, the torches guttering in the draft that swept through the high arched windows. Julian sat at the far end of the long oak table, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword that felt heavier than it...

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