The Golden Oath

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 09:44:12 -

The Golden Oath

The brass buckle was cold against my palm, a small, heavy thing that smelled of iron rust and old sweat. It sat in the center of the wooden table, catching the dim light from the single tallow candle, while I scrubbed the grime from the castle floorboards. My hands were raw, the skin split and weeping, but the pain was a dull, familiar companion, less sharp than the humiliation of being Lord...

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