The Pale Dance

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2026-08-22 16:51:18 -

The Pale Dance

The feast was held in the vaulted hall beneath the Old Gate, a celebration of the city’s enduring stability that smelled of roasted pork, stale beer, and the damp rot of the stone walls. Elias Thorne stood by the entrance, his hand resting on the hilt of a sword he would never draw, watching the merchants and minor nobles laugh and drink. He was thirty-four, with a back that ached when it...

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