The Distant Joke

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2026-08-20 19:50:43 -

The Distant Joke

The feast was loud. It was a wall of sound, thick with the smell of roasted goose and stale beer. We sat in the great hall of Blackwood Manor, a place that had not seen a king in three centuries but held him in its bones. My hands shook. I kept them under the table, knuckles white. "You are quiet, Thomas," said Sir Reginald. He was huge. His face was red, swollen with wine. He looked at me as...

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