The Golden Maze
The torchlight in the Grand Hall flickered against the vaulted ceiling, casting long, trembling shadows that danced over the polished marble floor where we stood, Elias Thorne and I, amidst the hum of the royal court. I am forty-two years old, a Captain of the Royal Guard, and the weight of the silver hilt in my hand feels heavier than it has in twenty years of service, not because of the...
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