The Faded River
The heavy velvet curtain, a shade of oxblood that had long since surrendered its vibrancy to the dust and the dimming gaslight, hung like a shroud over the main stage of the Royal Theatre. It was not merely a piece of fabric; it was a barrier, a membrane separating the sacred from the profane, the observer from the observed. Behind it, in the suffocating darkness of the green room, Elara Vance...
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