The Golden Harbor
The feast was a riot of tallow smoke and roasted boar, the air so thick with grease and stale beer that breathing felt like drinking. Sir Aldric sat at the head of the long oak table, his plate untouched, his eyes fixed on the hands of his younger brother, Thomas, who was tearing a chicken leg with a violence that seemed entirely disproportionate to the meal. They were in the highlands of the...
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