The Golden Song
The terraced farms of the Bavarian highlands stood in silent, rain-slicked rows, their stone walls weeping with the weight of the season, while the smokehouse at the base of the ridge filled the air with the sharp, curing scent of pork and wood ash. I am Karin Hofmann, and I had twenty-four years of life behind me, all of it spent in the shadow of the Baron’s estate, waiting for a wage that...
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