The Faded Paradox

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2026-08-20 06:22:22 -

The Faded Paradox

The feast was loud. Too loud. I stood by the hearth, my hands stained with soot and oil. The oil is the problem. It never washes out. Master Aldous held the goblet high. The wine was dark. It looked like blood. I watched it drip down his chin. "You look pale, Thomas," he said. I wiped my hands on my apron. The fabric was thick. It smelled of iron. "I am fine, my lord," I said. My voice was...

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