The Golden Harbor

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2026-08-19 09:58:08 -

The Golden Harbor

The air in the grand salon of the Harrow House did not smell of perfume or aged wine, but of wet wool and the metallic tang of old blood, a scent that clung to the velvet drapes and the heavy oak paneling like a second skin. It was the winter of 1893, and the city outside had been buried under a snowfall that seemed to have no end, sealing the manor off from the world as if it were a tomb....

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