The Wistful Ashes

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2026-08-21 09:41:32 -

The Wistful Ashes

The air in the Grand Hall of the Ministry of Civic Harmony tasted of copper and stale lavender, a scent that Margaret Holloway had grown so accustomed to over the last three decades that she could no longer distinguish it from the smell of her own blood, which was running, thin and warm, down her left temple where the baton of the Order’s enforcer had struck her during the morning’s chaotic...

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