The Golden Visit

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 17:35:25 -

The Golden Visit

The hall smelled of roasting lamb and damp wool. It was a thick, cloying scent that stuck to the back of the throat. We sat on benches of rough-hewn oak. The stone floor was cold under my feet. I wore a tunic of undyed linen. It was thin. It offered no comfort against the draft that sneaked through the cracks in the walls. I was a scholar. Or so they said. I carried a book bound in cracked...

0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews