The Faded Attic
The banquet hall of the city of Aethelgard was a cathedral of stone and shadow, where the air hung heavy with the scent of roasted boar, beeswax, and the metallic tang of old blood. Torches flickered in iron sconces, casting long, dancing ghosts across the vaulted ceiling, illuminating the faces of the lords who sat in judgment. At the center of this gloom stood Elara, her wrists bound by...
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