The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-17 19:16:52 -

The hall smelled of roasted goose and wet wool. Candles dripped wax onto the tapestries, pooling in slow, golden rivers. Sir Edmund stood at the head of the table. He did not eat. He held a small vial of glass in his left hand. The liquid inside was dark. It smelled of iron and rain. His wife, Eleanor, sat opposite him. She was beautiful in the way that old stones are beautiful. Worn smooth by...

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