The Distant Whispers

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2026-08-20 17:03:39 -

The fire did not start with a spark, but with a whisper. It began in the high, cold rafters of the Grand Hall, a sound like dry leaves skittering across stone, which the attendants mistook for the settling of old beams. Margaret stood at the edge of the dais, her hands clasped tightly in front of her waist, feeling the vibration of the building in her teeth. The air smelled of beeswax and...

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