The Golden Cellar
The feast of the high valley had lasted three days, and on the fourth morning, the air was still thick with the scent of roasted venison, spiced wine, and the heavy, cloying perfume of rose water that the servants had sprinkled over the stone floors to mask the underlying stench of fear and exhaustion. Eldon, the last of the village elders, sat at the far end of the long oak table, his hands...
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