The Golden Cellar
The crystal chalice caught the light of the chandeliers, a golden eye staring out at the assembled court. I stood in the shadows of the service corridor, my breath held tight in my chest, watching the King raise the vessel to his lips. It was a moment of pure, hollow splendor, the kind of beauty that cost too much to maintain. I am Elias Thorne, a junior archivist, a man who knows the weight of...
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