The Distant Crown

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2026-08-19 14:27:50 -

The Distant Crown

The smell of yeast and burnt sugar hung thick in the air of the Hall of Whispers, a scent that Edmund had come to associate not with sustenance, but with the slow, creeping rot of his own ambition. He stood before the Great Kneading Table, a slab of polished obsidian that stretched into the misty distance of the banquet hall, his hands buried deep in a mound of dough that felt less like flour...

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