The Faded Alibi

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2026-08-20 09:14:42 -

The Faded Alibi

The feast was held in the Great Hall of the village, a room that smelled of damp wool, roasted pork, and the metallic tang of old blood. It was a midwinter night, the kind that freezes the breath in your lungs before you can even take it in. I sat at the high table, my hands resting on the rough hessian tablecloth, feeling the cold seep through my sleeves. My left hand was bandaged, the linen...

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