The Wistful Mirror
The banquet hall of the Ashworth estate did not merely host a celebration; it consumed the very air, filling the vaulted space with a suffocating humidity that clung to the skin like a second, heavier garment, while the chandeliers above, dripping with crystal that shattered the light into a thousand cold, jagged shards, cast a glow that felt less like illumination and more like the sterile,...
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