The Pale Garden

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2026-08-21 14:42:57 -

The Pale Garden

The feast is loud. It is too loud. The hall of the Ashworth estate, a rotting cathedral of stone and timber, vibrates with the weight of too many bodies and too much wine. You sit at the edge of the long table, your plate untouched, your hands resting flat on the oak. They are steady. They are always steady. You are the knight. You are the shield. You are the thing that holds the line when the...

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