The Faded Shield
The air in the Great Hall of Oakhaven Castle did not smell of the wine that flowed in rivers through the marble channels, nor of the roasted pheasants that were carved with surgical precision by silent attendants; instead, it carried a faint, metallic tang, like the scent of old blood dried onto parchment, a smell that Edmund Vance, the court’s most celebrated and notoriously vain heraldry...
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