The Golden Ritual
The seal is broken, Elias. I looked at the Auditor, a man named Silas Vane, whose shadow stretched across the parchment like a spilled ink stain, defying the geometry of the room. He did not look at me; he looked at the gold leaf border of the decree I had forged, his eyes narrowing with a hunger that had nothing to do with greed and everything to do with hunger. In Aethelgard, the air tastes...
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