The Pale Dance

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2026-08-18 06:55:03 -

The Pale Dance

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a suspended curtain of grey mist that clung to the eaves of the manor house and seeped into the marrow of my bones. I stood in the center of the great hall, a space so vast it felt less like architecture and more like a void held up by stone ribs, watching the condensation bead on the cold flagstones. It was a Tuesday in November, or perhaps it was a...

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