The Pale Circus
The banquet hall of the Iron Keep was a cavern of smoke and shadow, where the air hung thick with the scent of roasting boar, stale ale, and the metallic tang of fear, and we sat at the long oak table beneath a canopy of black velvet that seemed to absorb the light of the tallow candles until the room itself became a living, breathing entity of darkness, and I watched my friend, Sir Edward...
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