The Faded Bouquet

added blog Literature

2026-08-17 18:28:05 -

The Faded Bouquet

The iron gate shuddered against the stone. It was a sound like a bone breaking in the dark. Sir Edmund stood at the threshold of the Undercroft. The air was thick, stale with the scent of wet limestone and old rot. He held his sword low. The blade was wet. Not with blood. With condensation. The castle was dying from the inside out. He was a man of few words. His uniform was pressed to a razor’s...

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