The Wistful Voyage
The hall smelled of roasted pheasant and expensive perfume. The air was thick, heavy with the hum of conversation that did not reach you. You stood near the edge of the room, holding a glass of water you had not sipped. Your sister, Eleanor, was at the center of the circle. She wore emerald silk that caught the light of the chandeliers. She looked like a queen. She looked like someone who owned...
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