The Faded Masquerade

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 00:31:07 -

The ballroom smelled of dust and old wax. I stood in the corner, my back against the cold stone of a pillar, watching the chandeliers sway. They swung like pendulums, slow and indifferent. The light was dim. Yellow. It caught the edges of the tables and the spines of the guests. I was not a guest. I was the lock. My name was Silas Vane. I had worn the badge of the Imperial Constabulary for...

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