The Golden Oath

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2026-08-22 23:21:52 -

The Golden Oath

The quill was dipped in ink that smelled of iron and old blood, a scent that clung to Thomas Bradshaw’s fingers as he held the parchment steady. It was a small, reed pen, worn thin at the tip, and it trembled slightly in the cold air of the scriptorium. He looked up from the ledger, his eyes adjusting to the dim light of the candle, and saw the Chancellor standing in the doorway. The room was...

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