The Distant Affair
The banquet hall of Blackwood Manor smelled of roasted lamb and old money. It was a thick, cloying scent, trapped beneath the high vaulted ceilings where cobwebs hung like the spun silk of forgotten centuries. Silas Vane stood at the center of the room, his hands clasped behind his back. He was a man of precise angles, a merchant of spices and rare herbs, a craftsman of flavor in a city that...
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