The Wistful Incense
The banquet hall was a cathedral of excess, a soaring expanse of white marble and gold leaf where the air hung thick with the cloying sweetness of overripe peaches and the metallic tang of high-stakes ambition. You sat at the head of the long table, your hands trembling slightly as you adjusted the cuffs of your tailored suit, a garment that fit perfectly but felt like a second skin that had...
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