The Distant Joke

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2026-08-23 14:37:09 -

The Distant Joke

The banquet hall of the Magistrate’s estate was a cavern of candlelight and roasted pheasant, the air thick with the cloying scent of rosemary and the sweat of men who had worked too hard to drink too fast, and I sat at the far end of the table, my hands wrapped around a glass of port that tasted of copper and old dust, watching the Magistrate, Alderman Silas Vane, carve a haunch of venison...

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