Inside the high solar of the Blackwood Redoubt, the opulent silk hangings and Persian carpets were in total disarray. Lord Cedric of Brandon sat on a low wooden stool in the center of the room, his wrists bound in heavy iron manacles, his once-flamboyant velvet tunic torn and soiled with sweat and soot. Across from him, behind a heavy oak table, sat King Kaelen Nightshade and Queen Amara, flanked by…
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