The Golden Mirror
The chandelier in the Grand Hall of Blackwood Manor did not merely hang; it hovered, a constellation of cut crystal suspended above a sea of dark velvet and polished mahogany. It was a night of such oppressive opulence that the air itself seemed to thicken, tasting of heavy perfume, aged wine, and the metallic tang of unspoken things. Lady Elara Vance stood at the edge of the ballroom, her...
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