The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-22 19:46:41 -

The iron key turned in the lock of the throne room, a sound like a bone snapping in the silence of the mid-afternoon. Sir Aldric, his armor dented and rusted at the joints, stepped over the threshold and into the pale, dusty light that slanted through the high, broken windows. The room was cold, not with the chill of winter, but with the specific, stagnant air of a place where time had stopped...

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