The Golden Quest
The banquet hall of Thorne Manor was a cavern of polished mahogany and heavy velvet, the air thick with the scent of roasted pheasant and the metallic tang of old money, a sensory overload that Elias Thorne endured with the stoic patience of a man watching a storm approach from the safety of a sealed room. At the center of the long table, under the gaze of forty crystal chandeliers, sat the...
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