The Wistful Dinner
Chapter One "You stand accused of treason against the Crown, Bertha Blount." The High Justiciar’s voice was dry, like parchment scraped with a knife. Bertha stood at the head of the long oak table in the Great Hall of the palace, the air heavy with roasted boar and stale wine. She was thirty-two, her face gaunt from three years of watching her brother Thomas rot in the vaults. In her right...
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