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... arkham tossed me a surly look as a servant worked at the fastens on his golden gauntlet.

“That was a shit show,” Markham said.

He sat by the room’s long table. His bodyguard stood near the door, helmed and anonymous as always. Off to the side, the Lord Steward and the Royal Clericon acted as the only other officials present, the latter armed with a quill in her function as scribe. I’d had time to clean up some, get my armor scrubbed of filth and my cloak dried out, with fresh clo ...

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