The Wistful Mirror
The feast at the High Keep of Aethelgard was not a celebration of joy, but a ritual of endurance, a heavy banquet served on tarnished silver plates that weighed more than the food they carried. The air in the great hall was thick with the smoke of tallow candles and the scent of roasted venison, yet the silence between the clinking of goblets was so profound it felt like a physical weight...
0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews