The Golden Oath

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2026-08-22 09:49:04 -

The Golden Oath

The air in the throne room did not smell of incense, as the court poets claimed. It smelled of damp stone and old blood. Sir Aldric stood before the dais, his knees locked, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He was forty years old, and he had served the crown for twenty. He had buried two sons to the plague and one to a fever, but he had never knelt for a king until this morning. He...

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