The Faded Apartment
The siege of the monastery had begun with the smell of boiling tallow and the wet, metallic tang of blood that seeped through the stone floor, a scent that had long since replaced the incense and lavender water that once defined the air of the abbey kitchens, leaving behind a cloying, heavy residue that clung to the back of the throat and settled in the lungs like fine ash, a physical...
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