The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-20 07:27:59 -

The Wistful Petal

The rain had stopped, leaving the cobblestones slick and black as old ink, reflecting the gas lamps in distorted, trembling pools. Arthur Vane stood by the window of the high tower, watching the water drip from the eaves in a rhythmic, mocking tick. He was a man of books and dusty quiet, a scholar of medieval botany who had spent forty years cataloging the names of flowers that no longer...

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