The Distant Ghost
Your hand is steady as you lift the ladle from the golden bowl, the metal clinking softly against the rim, a sound that cuts through the low hum of the banquet hall like a knife through silk. The soup is thick, amber-colored, and steaming, a dish you have consumed every evening for twenty years as a captain of the Imperial Guard, a ritual that bound you to the crown with a fidelity that felt as...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima