The Distant Summer
You stand at the center of the great hall, the air thick with the scent of beeswax, roasted game, and the heavy, cloying perfume of lilies that have been left too long in their crystal vases, a fragrance that seems to cling to the very stones and seep into the pores of your skin, a pervasive and inescapable atmosphere that marks this place not as a home but as a monument to a way of life that...
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