Act I: The Gilded Cage of London
The fog of 1874 clung to the cobblestones of Mayfair like a damp shroud, smelling of coal smoke and expired ambitions. Clara stood by the heavy velvet curtains of her drawing room, her fingers tracing the frayed gold embroidery. Once, this house had breathed luxury; now, it breathed dust and the silent screams of a bankrupt lineage. She was the last leaf on a withered tree, a daughter of a...
0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 3 مشاهدة 0 معاينة