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A Thread of Broken Fate

“You can bring back everyone you’ve lost. It will only cost your sanity.” The king is dead, murdered by an interloper from the future—a manic copy of his own son, hellbent on forcibly reversing a disastrous timeline. The true Damian Roswald—a hedonistic crown prince bereft of magical talent—finds his comfortable life upended by his father’s murder and assassins from his own future. “There are none left who can judge us, so we must be our own executioner. That is the cursed fate of those few named Damian Roswald.” With politicians plotting his demise, his royal cousins scheming for the empty throne, and warring churches tearing the grieving city apart, Damian must accept the tragedy of his countless futures—or else, find himself doomed to repeat them. But can a mere mortal decide their own fate in a world governed by almighty angels? “Find me, Damian Roswald. And I’ll tell you why the stars fell.” For three centuries, even the wisest men have accepted that the night sky was once populated by ‘stars’—until a terrible calamity plunged mankind into a Dark Age. From the darkness, the Roswalds rose to power, but few know that the first crown was forged with the blood of a slaughtered god… Damian must endure countless tragedies and the consequences of his own future actions to reach the peace he desires—but could the true threat be hiding not in his future, but in his own distant past? **Join our Discord and never miss a chapter!! https://discord.gg/M5cTyzW44Q**

BrettMichaelOrr · Urban
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145 Chs
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a lion’s hunger (3)

Dinner was a lavish affair.

The enormous banquet hall dwarfed that of Rossheim Palace, and was furnished with thick curtains and ornate chandeliers. The evening meal was a veritable feast presented by dozens of maids and chefs, with whole roast chickens and pigs, an array of aromatically seasoned vegetables, and finished with creamy puddings and light cakes. 

Lombrassian wine was on offer throughout the evening, the rich wine brought from the Duke's own cellars and served in crystal flutes. Even the cutlery was fine silver with filigree oak leaves engraved into the metal.

The dinner was meant to communicate one thing, and one thing only: the Duchy of Lombrass had wealth in abundance.

And they don't need the Crown to keep up this luxury, Damian thought, as he looked upon the evening's host.

Duke Andrew sat at the head of the table, a tall banner unfurled behind him with the Duchy's livery on proud display.