The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-25 06:13:20 -

Aldric. The word hung in the cold air of the archive, sharp and sudden. It was not a call of greeting, but a summons, delivered by the King’s own voice from the shadows of the upper gallery. Aldric did not look up. He knew the sound of royal displeasure; it was the same texture as the chisel he held, heavy and ready to strike. He was forty years old, his back a map of old bruises, and the...

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