The Golden Quest
The parchment lay on the cold stone table, its edges curling slightly in the damp air of the throne room, and Sir Aldric held it with hands that had not trembled since the siege of Lyon, yet now shook as if they belonged to a child. It was a formal letter of dismissal, the royal seal pressed into the wax with a sharp, finality that echoed in the silence of the hall. He read the words twice, the...
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