The Pale Path

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2026-08-20 14:34:23 -

The Pale Path

The air smelled of rendered fat and old stone. We sat in the long hall of the manor, the tables groaning under the weight of silver and clay. I watched the light play on the surface of the wine. It was dark. It was deep. It was still. "Look at her," Thomas whispered. His voice was low. It scraped against the silence. "Look at how she holds the cup." I did not look at her. I looked at the path...

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