The Pale Banner
The fire did not start with a spark, but with a scream. It was a sound that tore through the high, vaulted ceilings of the Grand Hall, a raw and jagged thing that silenced the orchestras and froze the dancers mid-step. Margot stood at the edge of the chandelier’s shadow, her dress of black silk heavy with the weight of the night, and felt the heat before she saw the flame. The air grew thick,...
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