The Wistful Dinner
The gavel fell with a sound like a bone snapping, and Sir Kaelen did not flinch. He stood before the High Court of Aldbury, his hands bound in iron that bit into the flesh of his wrists, while the silver ring on his right index finger pulsed with a cold, rhythmic light. It was the only thing in the room that did not look afraid. Lord Vane sat in the high chair, his face a mask of bored...
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