The Golden Farce

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2026-08-23 10:57:31 -

The Golden Farce

The feast was a lie told in grease and stale wine. We sat in the long hall of the Iron Council, forty-two men and women in gray wool, eating roasted pork that tasted of ash. I was Silas, the border warden, and I sat at the foot of the table because I had no rank. Three years ago, I had failed to stop a convoy of refugees from slipping through the northern mist. The Council had stripped my...

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