The Faded Bouquet
The air in the Great Hall of Blackwood Manor was thick, not with the warmth of hearth fire, but with the heavy, cloying scent of lilies and the stale, metallic tang of old blood that seemed to seep from the very stones of the floor, a perfume that clung to the throat and the mind with the tenacity of a lover who refuses to let go of the hand that has already pushed him away, a fragrance that...
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