The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-20 13:52:13 -

The Wistful Petal

The hall smelled of roasting goose and wet wool. It was a smell that clung to the back of the throat, thick and cloying, like the breath of a beast that had been sleeping too long. Elias stood by the dais, his hands trembling at his sides. He wore his best coat, the one his mother had stitched with silver thread along the hem. It felt heavy. It felt like a shroud. The feast was in full swing....

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