The Faded Portrait

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 06:32:03 -

The rain did not fall so much as it hung in the air, a thick, gray curtain that smelled of wet wool and old stone, pressing against the high, narrow windows of the keep until the glass groaned under the weight of the world. Inside, the air was still and tasted of dust and candle wax, a dry, ancient silence that seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the storm to break or the boy to speak,...

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