The Faded Masquerade

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 21:37:59 -

The banquet hall smelled of roasted lamb and stale wine, a thick, cloying scent that hung heavy in the air like a shroud. Margaret sat at the far end of the long table, her fingers stained a deep, bruised purple from the berries she had crushed into the punch. She watched Lord Ashworth as he moved through the room, his laughter sharp and bright, cutting through the murmur of the guests with the...

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