This spine holds no bone Dozens of teeth that don't bite Last letter makes no tone Without it, hair could look a fright

I am the first to be laid, yet I carry the weight, Of the grandest cathedral and the halls of the state. I sit at the angle where two walls must meet, Holding the structure so it stays on its feet.

In the garden, I'm a knight cloaked in royal hues, with a soft heart and versatile nature, loved in kitchens worldwide, yet I'm not a king's fruit.

I speak without a mouth, show worlds without eyes. I can sway nations with manufactured lies. Though silent myself, my screen amplifies.

I am thin and flat. People write on me, draw on me, and fold me into shapes. I can be found in books, notebooks, and letters. What am I?