The Wistful Petal

adicionou um novo artigo Literature

2026-08-18 07:47:26 -

The Wistful Petal

The banquet hall of Castle Ashworth smelled of roasted pheasant and old stone, a scent that seemed to hang in the air like a heavy, invisible shroud. Margery sat at the high table, her fingers resting tightly around the stem of her wine goblet. The glass was cold, a stark contrast to the feverish heat rising in her chest. Across the table, Lord Edward Ashworth raised his cup in a toast, his...

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