The Golden Master
The glass shattered before the sound arrived, a sudden, violent bloom of light in the darkened hall. I stood there, my hand still raised, the tumbler slipping from my fingers, the liquid spilling across the mahogany floorboards with a hiss that seemed too loud, too real, in the silence that followed. The Great Hall of the Whitmore Estate was not a place for such things. It was a place for...
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