The Golden Farce
The summons came not as a shout, but as a whisper carried by the wind through the high, narrow windows of the keep, a sound that seemed to scratch against the very stone of the fortress. "Sir Kaelen," the herald said, his voice thin and reedy in the cold air of the execution chamber, "the King requires your presence for the final judgment." Kaelen stood by the heavy oak table, his hands resting...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima