The Golden Song
The feast was a riot of gold and grease, a cacophony of clinking goblets and roasted meat that hung in the air like heavy, sweet fog. Sir Edmund, the King’s Warden, sat at the head of the long oak table, his armor polished to a mirror shine that reflected the flickering torchlight in a dozen fractured shards. He was a man carved from the same rigid stone as the castle walls, yet his eyes held a...
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