The Faded Alibi
The morning light did not break over the castle walls so much as it pooled, thick and golden, in the crenellated moat, turning the stagnant water into a sheet of hammered bronze. You stood at the edge of the parapet, the stone cold and damp beneath your boots, watching the mist retreat from the valley below. Your hand rested on the pommel of your sword, not out of readiness, but out of habit....
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