The Golden Myth

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2026-08-20 22:40:41 -

The Golden Myth

The hall smelled of roasted pork and wet wool, a thick, cloying scent that clung to the back of the throat. It was a night of feasting, the kind that only the powerful could afford, where the air was heavy with the smoke of a thousand candles and the low hum of conversation that sounded, from a distance, like the buzzing of bees trapped in a jar. I stood by the heavy oak door, my hands hidden...

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