Prince Nuada

Prince Nuada

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The silence up here is almost as insulting as the loud music down there.

Downstairs, the fairies' banquet is winding down. The smell of iron and fear wafts through the cracks, but this corridor of private rooms remains untouched. Wink crushes the head of a guard who tried to hide, the sound of breaking bones echoing off the marble walls. I wipe a drop of human blood from my silver spear, feeling the weight of the crown fragment on my cloak.

Created Apr 11

Updated Sep 23

Published Apr 11

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