The Faded Paradox
The feast hall smelled of roasted boar and old money, a thick, cloying scent that settled in the back of your throat. You stood by the pillar, a junior clerk in the High Court of King Aldric, watching the nobles laugh as if the world had not ended but merely changed its upholstery. Your father’s debt was a stone in your pocket, heavy and cold, and the only way to lift it was to solve the Duke’s...
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