The Pale Garden
The frost did not merely settle on the glass; it invaded it, spreading in fern-like fractals that turned the window into a cage of white lace. Elara pressed her forehead against the cold pane, the chill biting through her skin, and watched the garden beyond the estate’s high iron gates. It was a place of terrible beauty, a sprawling expanse of withered roses and blackthorn that seemed to...
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