The Distant Ghost
The air in the High Court’s great hall was thick with the scent of roasted pheasant and the heavier, sharper odor of sweat and iron, a suffocating mixture that clung to the velvet drapes and the polished floorboards where twelve-year-old Elias stood rigidly beside his father, the aging Duke of Ashworth. The banquet was a spectacle of opulent decay, a feast of silver platters and crystal goblets...
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