The Last Vigil at Blackwater Manor

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2026-06-01 20:52:08 -

I The fog rolled off the Thames like a living thing, swallowing the gas lamps one by one until London was nothing but a collection of pale halos in a sea of grey. Arthur Blackwood stood at the window of his Mayfair townhouse and watched it, a half-empty glass of port in his hand. He was thirty-two years old and had already decided that the world was not worth the effort it took to understand...

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