The Pale Exile
The coat was white, a stark and blinding expanse of silk that seemed to absorb the light of the chandelier rather than reflect it, and you wore it with the casual, almost frivolous disregard of a man who had never once considered the weight of his own history, standing now at the threshold of the Great Hall where the air tasted of cold stone and ancient, unspoken blood. You were not here to...
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