The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-21 09:30:06 -

The feast was loud. It was a riot of silver and red, a sea of roasted boar and wine that sloshed in clay cups. I sat at the long oak table, my back against the cold stone wall, my hands wrapped around a mug of ale that smelled of hop and dust. The air was thick with the smoke of tallow candles and the heavy perfume of rosemary. Everyone was laughing. The laughter sounded like stones grinding...

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