The Golden Farce

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2026-08-20 11:57:13 -

The Golden Farce

The banquet hall smelled of roasted duck and old wax, a thick, cloying scent that seemed to cling to the back of Elias Thorne’s throat. He sat at the far end of the long mahogany table, his uniform immaculate, the brass buttons catching the light of the chandeliers like small, cold eyes. Around him, the officers of the city guard laughed, their voices rising in a cacophony of camaraderie that...

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