The Wistful Show

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2026-08-19 09:07:47 -

The Wistful Show

The hall smelled of wax and old blood. It was a scent that had settled into the plaster over the last ten years, a ghostly perfume that no amount of scrubbing could lift. I stood at the edge of the ballroom, my hand resting on the pommel of my sword. The blade was not drawn, but the weight of it was a familiar anchor. I had served the Duke with my life for a decade. I had broken bones in the...

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