The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-19 11:14:55 -

The air in the Grand Hall of the Imperial Institute of Jurisprudence was thick with the scent of beeswax and old paper, a cloying perfume that seemed to settle in the lungs like a fine, invisible dust, coating the throat with the taste of history and the weight of expectation. I stood beside the podium, my hands trembling not from cold, for the gaslight cast a warm, amber glow over the polished...

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