The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-17 19:05:37 -

The Wistful Petal

The cell did not smell of rot, as Elspeth had expected, but of wet stone and the faint, cloying sweetness of crushed violets that seemed to seep from the very mortar of the walls. It was a small, windowless room in the undercroft of the old manor, a place where the air hung heavy and still, pressing against her skin like a damp shroud. She sat on the straw pallet, her hands folded in her lap,...

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