The Golden Master
The fire in the hearth roared, a golden beast devouring the night. Thomas sat at the head of the long oak table. His hands were still. They were always still. The iron gauntlet on his right arm caught the light. It was a mirror. Not a weapon. A mirror. The banquet was full. The air smelled of roasted lamb and heavy wine. The guests laughed. They shouted. They threw bones into the fire. Thomas...
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