The Distant Legend
The bell in the Great Hall had been broken for three days, yet no one in the court seemed to notice. Or perhaps they noticed and simply did not care. It was a heavy bronze thing, hanging from a beam of oak so old it looked like petrified wood. To Julian, it was the only honest thing left in the room. The rest—the tapestries, the thrones, the polished faces of the judges—was all performance. A...
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