The Pale Mist

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-20 09:00:00 -

The Pale Mist

The hall smelled of roasted swan and wet wool. You stood by the hearth. Your hands were still. They were clean. This was wrong. Your fingers trembled. A fine, high-pitched vibration. Like a wire about to snap. Lord Aldric laughed. He held a goblet of wine. The wine was dark. It swirled. He looked at you. He looked at your hands. He smiled. It was a thin smile. It did not reach his eyes....

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