The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-19 03:46:17 -

The Faded Bouquet

The air in the Hall of Whispers did not smell of decay, but of ozone and crushed violets, a scent so thick it coated the tongue with a metallic sweetness. I stood at the edge of the banquet table, a long slab of black marble that stretched into the dim, vaulted shadows of the cathedral’s nave. The feast was not of food, but of presence. Hundreds of candles burned with flames that did not...

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