The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 23:19:32 -

The feast was not a celebration but a siege, held in the great hall of the ancestral estate, where the air hung thick with the scent of roasting boar and beeswax. You sat at the head of the long oak table, your hands folded in your lap, your skin pale and thin as parchment stretched over a frame of brittle wood. The guests ate with a ferocity that seemed almost religious, tearing at the meat,...

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