The Pale Garden

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-20 10:35:05 -

The Pale Garden

The banquet hall of the old city was a cathedral of rot and gold, where the chandeliers wept wax like frozen tears onto the velvet tablecloths, and the air was so thick with the scent of roasted pheasant and burning tallow that one could taste the coppery tang of history on the back of the tongue. I sat at the far end of the long oak table, my hands folded tightly in my lap, feeling the weight...

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