The Distant Legend
The air in the grand hall of the city hall smelled of roasted goose, stale wine, and the metallic tang of old stone, a scent that had been baked into the rafters by generations of feasting lords and hungry paupers who were allowed to linger in the shadows of the banquet tables. You stand in the corner, your uniform pressed and clean, though the fabric is thin and worn at the elbows, and you...
0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 1 Views 0 önizleme