The Wistful Cipher
The feast was a riot of tallow and roasting meat, a visceral eruption of heat and noise that seemed to swallow the very stone walls of the castle, and yet in the center of this cacophony, in the place where the light from the chandeliers was thickest and most blinding, stood a woman who appeared to be carved from the same cold, unyielding granite as the keep itself, her fingers moving with a...
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