The Golden Farce
The weight of the sword was exactly four pounds and two ounces, a fact Silas Vane had verified against the brass scales in the armory that very morning, the metal cold and unyielding under his thumb as he counted the days since the last inspection, the hours since the last meal, the minutes since the court had begun its endless, humming drone. He stood now in the center of the throne room, the...
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