The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-20 01:29:53 -

The Wistful Petal

The banquet hall smelled of burnt tallow and stale beer, a thick, suffocating fog that clung to the wool of my coat even after we stepped out into the cold night. It was a celebration of sorts, though I had never been able to determine what exactly was being honored. The men in the room, my comrades, my superiors, my friends, all of them wore smiles that looked like they had been sewn onto...

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