The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-17 14:29:00 -

The Wistful Ashes

The hall smelled of roasted boar and wet wool, a thick, cloying perfume that clung to the velvet drapes and settled into the pores of the guests who moved in slow, heavy circles beneath the vaulted ceiling. It was the Feast of St. Jude, the patron of lost causes, and the air was thick with the smoke of a thousand tallow candles, their flames flickering in the draft from the open windows. In the...

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