The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-19 06:10:29 -

The Faded Bouquet

The feast was a lie. The hall smelled of rot. Beneath the wax and the wool, the air was thick with the sweet, cloying scent of decay. It hung heavy. It pressed against the skin. It tasted of iron and old blood. Elara sat at the head of the table. She was small. Her hands were pale. They trembled. They gripped the edge of the oak. The wood was cold. It bit into her palms. She did not let go. To...

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