The Distant Blade

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 20:23:07 -

The Distant Blade

The banquet hall smelled of roasted pheasant and wet wool. It was a scent that clung to the nose, thick and suffocating, a velvet curtain drawn across the world outside. Thomas stood by the wall. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword. The steel was cold. It was always cold. He had worn it for ten years. Ten years of frost on the blade. Ten years of silence. Lord Vane sat at the head of the...

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