The Pale Echo

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 13:56:54 -

The Pale Echo

The feast was a thing of terrible beauty, a sprawling tableau of roasted swan and honeyed figs spread across the long oak table of my ancestral home, the air thick with the scent of burning tallow and the heavy, cloying sweetness of aged wine. I sat at the head of the table, not as a king, but as a prisoner of my own station, my hand resting near the hilt of the sword that had once made my name...

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