The Golden Visit

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2026-08-20 12:55:56 -

The Golden Visit

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a fine, grey mist that clung to the damp stone of the abbey walls and seeped into the marrow of Eleanor’s bones. She stood at the threshold of the scriptorium, her fingers white-knuckled around the hem of her coarse wool dress, watching the morning light struggle to pierce the heavy gloom of the cloister. The air smelled of wet limestone,...

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