The Faded Bouquet
The feast in the Hall of Whispers was a cacophony of silver and silk, a shimmering, oppressive tide of guests who moved through the airless room like fish in a glass tank, their laughter a thin, brittle sound that failed to reach the depths of the shadows where Elara sat. She held the bouquet, the white lilies and the pale, weeping willow branches, wrapped in a cloth that had once been the...
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