The Pale Shadows

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2026-08-18 19:50:01 -

The Pale Shadows

The bell tolled. One. Two. Three. Sir Julian Vane stood at the edge of the High Gallery. The air was thin. It tasted of iron and old dust. He adjusted his grip on the hilt. The steel was cold. It bit into his palm. A familiar ache. A comforting weight. Below, the Court of Whispers churned. Robes of black silk. Faces masked in porcelain. They moved like water. Silent. Ominous. The King sat on...

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