The Faded Dust
The silence in the keep of Dunmore Castle was not an absence of sound but a physical weight, a thick, velvet curtain that pressed against the eardrums and settled in the marrow of the bone, forcing Sir Aldous Thorne to listen to the frantic, erratic drumming of his own heart as he stood alone in the central tower, the air cold and stale with the scent of ancient stone and damp wool, his hand...
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