The Wistful Ashes

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-22 18:25:40 -

The Wistful Ashes

The banquet hall smelled of roasted lamb and wet stone, a cloying mix that sat heavily in my throat as I watched the King raise his cup. I was twelve years old, my hands stained black up to the wrists from the ink I had been grinding since dawn, and I wanted only the Master’s seal. It was the only thing that mattered, the only proof that I was more than a boy who trembled. The Obsidian Court...

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