The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-20 22:16:04 -

The frost had not yet fully surrendered to the pale, wintry sun when the banquet began, a sprawling affair of roasted pheasant and thick, amber ale that smelled of pine resin and old money, held within the high, vaulted halls of the Ashworth estate where the shadows clung to the stone arches like damp moss. Thomas Bradshaw stood at the periphery of the long oak table, his fingers stained with...

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