The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-18 02:52:38 -

The Wistful Petal

The hall smelled of roasting goose and wet wool. It was a thick, cloying scent that clung to the nose, heavy as the air itself. Thomas stood in the corner. He held his cup of ale. It was warm. Too warm. He watched the Duke. The Duke was large. His face was red. He laughed. The laugh was a bellow. It shook the dust from the rafters. Thomas was not here for the feast. He was here for the seal....

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