The Pale Dance

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 22:38:15 -

The Pale Dance

The feast was a sprawl of silver and grease, a testament to the Duke’s vanity more than his generosity. Elara sat at the far end of the long table, her fingers stained with the juice of roasted pheasants, watching the light catch the edge of a gold chalice. The air in the great hall was thick, suffocating, heavy with the scent of burning tallow and the metallic tang of old blood that seemed to...

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