The Distant Crown
You stand in the hall. The floor is cold stone, polished to a mirror sheen by centuries of footfalls. You are not alone. A crowd surrounds you. They are soldiers, yes, but they are also ghosts. They wear uniforms of gray wool and brass buttons that have tarnished into the color of old blood. You look at their faces. They are young. They are old. They are all wearing the same mask of polite...
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