The Distant Metropolis

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2026-08-19 20:14:30 -

The banquet hall of Ashworth Castle did not smell of roast goose or spiced wine, but of old stone and the faint, metallic tang of blood that had long since dried into the floorboards, a scent you could not scrub away no matter how many times the servants mopped the flagstones. You sat at the far end of the long oak table, your knees pressed tight together beneath the heavy velvet of your tunic,...

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