The Pale Shadows

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2026-08-19 08:00:30 -

The Pale Shadows

The frost bit the stone. Eleanor stood still. The air was thin. She held the vial. It was cold. Her father coughed. A wet sound. The hall was vast. Candles burned low. Smoke curled up. It smelled of wax. And decay. "You are cold," he said. His voice was weak. Like dry leaves. Eleanor did not answer. She looked at the door. The King was there. He wore black. His face was pale. He looked at her....

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