The Golden Cellar

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2026-08-21 15:40:15 -

The Golden Cellar

The banquet hall smelled of roasted pheasant and wet wool, a heavy, cloying scent that stuck to the back of Elias Thorne’s throat. He sat at the long oak table, his posture rigid, watching the candlelight flicker against the high vaulted ceiling. Around him, the guests of the Holloway estate laughed, their voices muffled by the thick air. They were rich, these people. Their coats were tailored...

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