The Pale Tower

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2026-08-19 01:27:37 -

The Pale Tower

The champagne was warm, the kind of mistake that only happens when the cellar door is left ajar too long in a July heat that presses against the glass like a fever. Julian laughed, a sharp, bright sound that cut through the low hum of the dinner party. He was in his element, or so he told himself, standing in the center of the grand hall of the Whitmore estate, holding a flute of fizzing gold....

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