The Golden Farce
The shouting had already begun before Elias reached the center of the Hall of Antiquities, a cacophony of clipped syllables and the sharp click of spurs on marble that vibrated in the soles of his boots. He stood sixteen years old, small for his age, with the kind of stillness that came not from bravery but from a paralyzing terror of making a single wrong move. In his hands, he clutched the...
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