The Golden Ritual
The feast was a riot of noise and grease. Candles guttered in the high windows of the Hall, casting long, trembling shadows across the stone floor. The air smelled of roasted boar and stale sweat. It was the Midwinter Solstice, the longest night, and the Lord’s table groaned under the weight of silver plates. Thomas sat at the foot of the table. He was a quiet man, his hands rough from the...
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