The Velvet Seal
The Blackwood Manor did not sit upon the hill; it loomed over the valley like a gargantuan, stone predator. Its corridors were veins of damp mahogany and peeling wallpaper, and its air was a thick soup of dust and ancestral grief. Clara had lived within these walls since her seventh year, a bird in a gilded cage of etiquette and silence. She was the keeper of the family's "Quietude," a...
0 Комментарии 0 Поделились 4 Просмотры 0 предпросмотр