The Wistful Show
The fire did not start with a spark, but with a scream that tore through the velvet throat of the night, a sound so raw and high-pitched it seemed to shatter the very stones of the Hall of Mirrors. Sir Edward Ashworth stood in the center of the great rotunda, his hand still raised in the gesture of a court jester, holding a feathered cap that had slipped from his head, while the chandeliers...
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