The Faded Masquerade
The rain had not ceased for three days. It drummed against the high, narrow windows of the keep, a rhythmic, hollow sound that seemed to hollow out the stone itself. I sat in the corner of the great hall, my back against the cold masonry, watching the flames die in the hearth. The court of Lord Valerius was a place of shadows and whispered judgments, a kingdom of whispers where silence was...
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