The Golden Quest
Maren sat in the dark. The room was a box of stone, thick and cold. She held the seal in her palm. It was small. It was gold. It was heavy. The seal was not hers. It had belonged to Lord Ashworth. He had pressed it into her hand. He had smiled. The smile had been thin. It had been sharp. Now he was gone. Or dead. Or both. The air in the cell smelled of damp moss and old fear. Maren did not...
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