The Wistful Throne

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2026-08-19 22:28:12 -

The feast was loud, a cacophony of clinking silver and roasted meat that tasted like ash in my mouth. I sat at the head of the long oak table, the crown of the inquisition heavy on my brow, though it was made only of woven thorns and dried blood. The hall was lit by tallow candles that flickered with a sickly green hue, casting long, trembling shadows against the stone walls of the keep....

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