The Golden Master
The great hall of the Ashworth estate was thick with the scent of roasted lamb and the heavy, cloying perfume of lilies that lined the long oak table. It was a night of celebration, a feast held not for a wedding or a christening, but for the simple, brutal fact that Master Elias Ashworth had survived another year of the failing trade. The candles flickered in the drafty air, casting long,...
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