The Wistful Voyage

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2026-08-19 06:34:56 -

The banquet hall smelled of roasted pheasant and old stone, a thick, suffocating perfume that clung to the back of Sergeant Elias Thorne’s throat. He stood at the periphery of the long mahogany table, his uniform pressed so sharply it seemed to cut the air around him, yet he felt as if he were wearing a shroud of wool. Around him, the officers of the 4th District sat in a cascade of gold braid...

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