The Golden Echoes
The document lay on the obsidian table, the ink still wet, smelling of iron and regret. Silas read it twice. It was a warrant for the execution of Elara, his daughter, for the crime of treason. He was forty years old, a Royal Guard, and the paper felt lighter than a feather but heavier than the stone floor beneath his boots. He wanted to kill the King. The opposition was the Sunblade in his...
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