The Distant Affair
The banquet hall was a cavern of white noise and polished mahogany, the air thick with the scent of roasting pheasant and the metallic tang of cold iron. You sat at the edge of the long table, your hands folded neatly in your lap, the fabric of your cufflinks catching the dim light of the chandeliers. Around you, the figures moved with a fluid, eerie grace, their faces blurred into masks of...
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