The Wistful Petal
The first thing you notice is the taste. Copper. Old pennies. The second thing is the silence. Not the quiet of a library or a sleeping house. This is the silence of a held breath. You are standing in the Great Hall of the Ashworth estate. The walls are lined with portraits of your ancestors, men with steel jaws and eyes that do not blink. They are watching you. They have always watched you....
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