The Golden Farce
The letter lay on the table, its seal cracked and weeping red wax. Elias read it twice, the ink blurring under the damp air. It was a final notice: the Duke’s pension would be forfeit if the sealed document did not reach the castle by dawn. He rolled the paper tight, tucking it into his tunic against the cold. Outside, the valley hummed. It was a low, constant thrum, like a bow drawn slowly...
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