The Distant Summer
The feast in the great hall of Oakhaven was a symphony of clinking silver and roasted meat, the air thick with the scent of sage and the sweat of men who had not yet learned to fear the summer heat. You sit at the lower table, your back straight, your hands folded, watching the King raise his goblet to toast the new regime, and you feel the weight of your own ambition pressing against your ribs...
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