The Pale Verdict
The room is warm. The air is thick with the smell of roasted pork and beeswax candles. You are sitting at a long table. The wood is dark mahogany, polished until it shines like black glass. Around you, the men eat. They laugh. The laughter is loud. It bounces off the high ceiling. It fills the corners of the room. You do not laugh. You eat. You chew slowly. The meat is tough. It requires...
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