The Wistful Show
The iron gate of Blackwood Manor did not creak when Sir Kaelen forced it open; it shrieked, a sound like tearing metal that cut through the heavy, damp silence of the November night. He was forty years old, though the grey threading his beard made him look older, and the weight of the debt owed by his brother, Thomas, pressed against his chest like a physical stone. Thomas had wagered the...
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