The Pale Banner
The rain on the stone walls of the Citadel did not wash away the scent of iron and old blood, but it made the air heavy, a physical weight pressing against the back of your neck. You stood in the center of the great hall, the floor cold and slick beneath the soles of your boots, while the King’s Guard formed a semicircle around you, their spears lowered but ready. The torches in the iron...
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