The Faded Paradox

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2026-08-19 06:40:37 -

The Faded Paradox

The banquet hall of the Abbey of St. Jude smelled of roasted boar, spilled wine, and the damp, rotting sweetness of the November fog pressing against the high, narrow windows. I sat at the far end of the long oak table, my hands trembling slightly beneath the linen tablecloth, not from the cold that seeped through the stone floor, but from the weight of the secret I had carried for three weeks....

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