The Wistful Dinner

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 00:33:05 -

The iron gate groaned against the stone. It was a low, guttural sound, like a man clearing his throat in the dark. I stood in the courtyard, my hand still resting on the hilt of my sword. The steel was cold. The air was colder. We had fought them off. That was the first thing I told myself. We had held the line. The second thing I told myself was that the blood on my tunic was not mine. The...

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