The Pale Verdict
The hall smelled of roasting boar and beeswax, a thick, golden haze that seemed to suspend the dust motes in the air like frozen stars. You stood by the massive oak table, your hands clasped so tightly behind your back that the knuckles turned white. The fire crackled in the hearth, a sound like dry bones breaking, and the candlelight flickered against the stone walls, casting long, trembling...
0 Commentarii 0 Distribuiri 1 Views 0 previzualizare