The Golden Ritual
The contract is for three thousand crowns, Elias, and you are a fool to think you can bake your way into the King’s favor with nothing but flour and water. Elias Thorne wiped his hands on his apron, the motion habitual and sharp, leaving a smear of white dust on the leather strap that held up his trousers. He stood in the center of the bakery in Oria, the air thick with the smell of yeast and...
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