The Gilded Decay of Mayfair
March arrived in Paris like a thief, slipping through the cobblestone alleys of Montmartre with a cold hand and a whisper. In the cellar of a disused eighteenth-century Benedictine convent, Henri de Mayfair knelt among crates of dust and forgotten things, his candle throwing long, trembling shadows against the vaulted stone walls. At thirty-one, Henri was a man composed of contradictions: the...
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