The Wistful Throne

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 13:24:09 -

The fire burned low in the great hall. It was a Tuesday. Or perhaps a Wednesday. Time had become a loose thread in the weave of the night. Sir Thomas Bradshaw sat at the high table. His hands were still. His face was pale. He wore his armor. It was polished. It reflected the candlelight. It reflected the fear in the eyes of the guests. Lord Malcom sat opposite him. Malcom was fat. He was...

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