The Faded Portrait

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 17:50:26 -

The banquet hall smelled of roasted pheasant and stale lavender, a cloying perfume that clung to the wool of your uniform as you sat at the long oak table, surrounded by the faces of men who had not bled, only watched. You were a lieutenant then, young enough to believe that the law was a shield, but old enough to know it was often a blade turned inward. The chandeliers above cast a fractured...

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