The Distant Blade

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2026-08-19 18:23:38 -

The Distant Blade

The banquet hall of the Whitmore Estate smelled of roasted lamb, stale wine, and the sharp, metallic tang of old money. It was a room built for power, high-ceilinged and draped in velvet the color of dried blood, where the chandeliers cast a fractured light across faces that had forgotten how to speak without calculation. At the center of this gilded cage sat Elias Thorne, a man whose mind had...

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