Shadows of the Empire
The humidity of Calcutta in 1885 was a physical weight, a thick, suffocating blanket that smelled of jasmine, open sewers, and the slow decay of an empire. Arthur stood on the veranda of the Government House, his white linen suit impeccably pressed, his posture a rigid line of British authority. To the local clerks and the colonial administration, he was the embodiment of the Crown—a man of...
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