The Wistful Dinner

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 21:16:21 -

The feast hall smelled of roasting pork and stale sweat. Sir Aldric sat at the high table, his spine rigid against the oak chair. He watched his wife, Elara, across the room. Her silver brooch caught the candlelight, a small, bright star pinned to her bodice. It was the only thing in the room that felt real to him. The air was thick with the low hum of political anxiety, a sound like bees...

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