The Absurd Theater of Power
The oaks of the Blackwood Estate were ancient and gnarled, their branches reaching out like the fingers of a drowning man. Silas sat in the library, surrounded by the scent of old leather and decaying ambition. He was the last of the Blackwoods, a man whose mind had become a labyrinth of his own design. The family fortune was vast, but the will was a riddle. Silas had spent the last decade...
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