The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-20 03:16:41 -

The Faded Bouquet

The banquet hall of Blackwood Manor smelled of roasted pheasant and stale rosewater, a cloying perfume that seemed to cling to the skin like a second, suffocating layer of velvet. It was a night of such heavy, suffocating opulence that the air itself felt thick, difficult to breathe, as if the very atmosphere had calcified into a solid barrier around the guests. Julian Thorne sat at the far end...

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