The Faded Masquerade
The bell tolled three times. It was a low, bronze sound that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of the court. Sir Julian stood by the window, his back to the assembly. He did not turn. He watched the rain streak the glass, blurring the view of the gardens below. The drop of water looked like a tear. It slid down, fast and silent, and vanished into the darkness. He had come to find the truth. That...
0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 5 Views 0 Anteprima