The Golden Farce

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2026-08-20 06:15:02 -

The Golden Farce

The banquet hall smelled of roasted lamb and stale wood, a thick, cloying scent that clung to the back of your throat like a second skin. You sat at the far end of the long oak table, your hands folded neatly in your lap, watching the light catch the dust motes dancing in the shafts that pierced the gloom of the high, vaulted ceiling. It was a night of celebration, they said, a feast for the...

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