The Wistful Letter

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 19:16:21 -

The rain did not fall; it hung, a grey curtain of wet wool against the high windows of the Blackwood estate. Thomas Ashworth stood in the mud, his uniform soaked through to the skin, the cold biting into his bones with a teeth-gritting insistence. He was a man of few words, built of stone and silence, but the night had stripped that silence away. In his hand, he held a lantern that sputtered,...

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