The Golden Visit
The three hundred and forty-two steps of the White Stair were counted not by Elara’s feet, but by the weight of the seal in her palm, a heavy, golden disc carved from the rib of her dead father, Thomas. It was the year 1342, and the air in the High Court smelled of wet wool and old blood, a scent that clung to the tapestries and seeped into the marrow of anyone who stood too long before the...
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