The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-20 10:41:35 -

The air in the Great Hall of Ashworth Manor tasted of roasted pheasant and old, dried blood. You sat at the long oak table, your hands folded beneath the chin, watching the candlelight tremble against the stone walls. The manor was vast, a skeleton of history draped in velvet, and you were the only pulse within it. Around you, the guests moved like ghosts, their laughter thin and brittle,...

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