The Golden Harbor
The soup was cold. You tasted the iron in it. You were alone in the cell. The stone was damp. The air was thick. It smelled of rot and old blood. You were a woman. You were small. You were hungry. The door was iron. It was barred. It did not move. You pressed your hand to it. The metal was cold. It bit your skin. You were not afraid. Fear was a luxury. You did not have it. You had only the...
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