The Faded Ruin
The morning light entered the atrium of the Sovereign’s Hall not as a gift, but as an interrogation, slicing through the dust motes that hung suspended in the stagnant, air-conditioned silence like the ghosts of decisions long since made. Elara Vance stood by the window, her fingers tracing the cool, condensation-slicked glass, watching the ivy that climbed the exterior facade with a slow,...
0 Comments 0 Shares 4 Views 0 Reviews