The Faded Attic
The feast was a study in controlled excess, the air thick with the scent of roasted venison and beeswax, yet the silence beneath the noise was absolute. In the high hall of the castle, the torchlight flickered against stone walls that had witnessed a hundred such gatherings, but tonight, the light seemed thinner, as if the fire itself was reluctant to burn. Sir Julian stood at the periphery of...
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