The-Gaslight-Heiress
The door opened before I could knock, and there he stood in the doorway I had come to know so well—the eldest son of Wainwright House, Elias Thorne, the master of a house that did not acknowledge him as its own. He held a lantern in one hand, its flickering light carving the hollows of his face into something almost classical, like those marble busts in the library downstairs that no one dared...
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