The Faded Quadrant

a adăugat un sunet Literature

2026-08-21 09:40:19 -

The hall was vast and cold. Candles burned low in silver sconces. The air smelled of wax and old stone. Margaret sat at the edge of the table. Her hands were still. They were pale. She watched the King. He sat on the throne of black oak. He was fat. His face was red. He smiled. It was a thin smile. It did not reach his eyes. "Margaret," he said. His voice was loud. It echoed off the vaulted...

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