The Golden Harbor
The oak door of the Great Hall did not merely open; it exploded inward, a violent shattering of wood and iron that sent splinters flying like shrapnel through the damp, candlelit air of the scriptorium where I sat recording the ledger of grain reserves. I am Thomas Ashworth, Captain of the Guard, a man of forty years who has spent his life in the service of the Duke, and in that single,...
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