The Golden Visit
The feast was a riot of roasted boar and stale ale, the air thick with the smell of tallow and unwashed bodies. Thomas stood in the corner, his hands shaking not from the cold, but from the sheer weight of the silence that had settled over the great hall. He was a clerk, a man of ink and paper, pushed into the role of hunter by a sickness that had eaten his lungs since childhood. The King had...
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