The Wistful Cipher
The banquet hall is a tomb of gold and silence. The air is thick. It smells of roasted lamb and old stone. You stand in the corner. Your tunic is stiff. Your hands are still. You are a man of the court guard. You watch. The King eats. He does not look at you. He never looks at you. The hall is vast. Pillars rise into the dark. The floor is marble. It is cold under your boots. The guests are...
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