The Golden Oath
The feast was a cacophony of clinking pewter and the heavy, wet sound of roasting meat hitting the table, but to me, the noise was a distant hum, a vibration in the floorboards of the Great Hall that did little to warm the chill settling in my marrow. I sat at the far end of the long oak table, my place marked by a single, unlit candle and a bowl of broth that had long since cooled into a grey...
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