The Golden Mirror
The feast in the Great Hall of Ashworth was a riot of gold and candlelight, the air thick with the scent of roasted boar, spiced wine, and the heavy, cloying perfume of roses that lined the stone walls, and you stood there in the shadow of the tapestries, watching the Lord of the Manor, Thomas Bradshaw, laugh with a mouth full of fat, his eyes gleaming with a vitality that seemed to defy the...
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