The Golden Crossing

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-23 04:29:50 -

The banquet hall of the High Council smelled of roasted pheasant and stale ambition, the air thick with the smoke of tallow candles and the unspoken weight of my impending doom. I sat at the far end of the long oak table, my hands folded in my lap, watching Lord Vane speak to the assembled wardens with the cadence of a man reading a funeral oration. We were celebrating the completion of the new...

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