Monarchs are usually associated with luxurious lives of lavishness, pomp and ceremony. One immediately imagines immaculate gold halls and sophisticated thrones flanked to either side by attendants waving fans or otherwise arms outstretched with plates filled to the brim with grapes and venison. And I wouldn't blame you. Monarchs ought not be spiriting themselves away into the night clad all in black, hooded and clinging to the shadows as though common brigands. This is the misconception an old greybeard is seeking to clear to his bewildered grandchildren, reminiscing his past as a cupbearer to the noble Harun in this shortstory inspired by the time of the Abbasids.Alle Rechte vorbehalten
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