The Pale Bridge

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2026-08-21 14:16:50 -

The Pale Bridge

The hall smelled of roasted lamb and wet wool, a thick, cloying scent that clung to the back of the throat and refused to leave. It was the feast of the solstice, the kind of event where the air itself seemed to vibrate with the low hum of a thousand conversations, all of them trying to say something important but only managing to say that the wine was good and the fire was warm. In the center...

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