The Distant Cartograph
The chandelier above the banquet table was a cage of glass. It caught the gaslight and fractured it into a thousand cold shards that danced across the mahogany. Elias Thorne sat at the head of the table. He was a man of precise angles and sharper edges. His coat was tailored, but his hands shook. Not from the cold. The room was stifling. The air smelled of roasted pheasant, lavender water, and...
0 Σχόλια 0 Μοιράστηκε 2 Views 0 Προεπισκόπηση