The Distant Crown

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2026-08-20 15:07:03 -

The Distant Crown

The iron gate of the keep groaned against the gravel, a sound that had been worn smooth by decades of rust and repetition. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of wet wool, stale woodsmoke, and the faint, metallic tang of old blood that no amount of scrubbing could ever fully erase from the stone floors. Sir Thomas Bradshaw sat at the head of the long oak table, his hands resting on the...

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