The Wistful Petal

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 04:12:07 -

The Wistful Petal

The rain did not fall so much as it hovered, a gray, suspended mist that clung to the cobblestones of the old city, turning the world into a watercolor sketch of itself. I stood at the head of the table in the Great Hall of the Magistrate’s Court, the heavy oak polished by centuries of nervous palms and whispered pleas. My uniform, the deep blue wool of the City Watch, felt less like protection...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews