The Golden Cellar
The dream was always the same: a vault of gold, suspended in a void, shattering into a million glittering shards that fell like rain. Sir Aldric woke with the taste of copper in his mouth and the sound of cracking stone in his ears. It was the year 1342, and he was forty years old, a knight of the Crown who had lost everything to a lie. The Regent, a man whose smile never reached his cold eyes,...
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 1 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση