The Pale Banner
The morning mist clung to the cobblestones of the high courtyard, a thick, gray shroud that swallowed the feet of the guards and the hemlines of the noblewomen who gathered in the hall. It was a cold day, the kind that settled into the bones of the old and the young alike, and the air inside the Great Hall tasted of stale wax and impending doom. King Aldric sat upon the Obsidian Throne, his...
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