The Golden Ritual
The air in the Great Hall of St. Jude’s Academy for the Advancement of Youth was thick with the scent of roasted pheasant and the metallic tang of old brass, a perfume that clung to the velvet drapes and settled into the pores of the skin with a suffocating familiarity that made it difficult to breathe without feeling a slight, persistent nausea. Julian sat at the far end of the long oak table,...
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