The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-18 17:19:36 -

The Faded Bouquet

The air tasted of iron and rot, a metallic tang that coated the back of my throat like old blood. I stood in the center of the Great Hall, my hands bound by chains that seemed to grow from the stone floor itself, and watched the magistrate raise his gavel. The hall was not made of wood or brick, but of compressed whispers, a shifting labyrinth of gray mist that curled around the pillars like...

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