The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-18 01:21:03 -

The feast was a disaster, a cacophony of clinking silver and forced laughter that seemed to hang in the air like the smoke of a bad fire, thick and suffocating. Captain Arthur Penhaligon stood in the center of the banquet hall, a man carved from granite and bad decisions, his uniform pressed with such severe precision that the fabric looked less like cloth and more like armor. He was there to...

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