The Golden Suspect
Aldric. The name was not spoken so much as dropped, a heavy coin landing on the table of the Great Hall, and the captain of the guard straightened his spine until the joints popped in the sudden silence. He stood at the edge of the banquet, forty years old, his armor polished to a mirror sheen that reflected the flickering torchlight and the cold, hard faces of the court. The want was specific,...
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