The Distant Affair
The banquet hall smelled of roasting goose and old stone. It was a scent that clung to the wool of the coats, a heavy, cloying perfume of wealth that felt like a physical weight on the air. Sergeant Elias Thorne sat at the far end of the long table, his uniform crisp, his hands resting on the white tablecloth. He did not eat. He watched the candles. The flames trembled, though there was no...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 3 Visualizações 0 Anterior