The Wistful Voyage
The banquet hall of the Imperial Court was a cavern of gold leaf and silence, the air thick with the scent of roasted pheasant and the heavy, cloying perfume of lilies that lined the long tables where the nobles sat in their velvet robes, watching you with the detached curiosity of men observing a beetle trapped under glass. You stood near the base of the Grand Meridian Clock, a towering...
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