The Wistful Mirror
The candles in the Great Hall of Alderbury Castle burned low, their flames trembling against the draft that slipped through the high, arched windows, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and ancient stone. You sat at the far end of the long oak table, the weight of the iron-bound tome resting on your lap, its leather cover worn smooth by the touch of scholars who had held it before you. The...
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