The Wistful Dinner
The feast begins with the sound of tearing linen. You stand at the head of the table, your hands stained with the red wine that has spilled across the white tablecloth. The air in the hall is thick with the scent of roasted lamb, rosemary, and the metallic tang of old blood. There are forty guests. They are your neighbors, your clients, the men who buy your silk and the women who buy your lace....
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