The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-21 13:50:46 -

The Faded Bouquet

The fire did not roar; it whispered, a dry, papery hiss that smelled of old wax and singed wool, consuming the tapestries of the Great Hall until the shadows danced in frantic, skeletal shapes against the stone walls. Thomas stood at the edge of the scorching air, his small hands tucked deep into the pockets of his father’s oversized coat, the wool heavy and damp with the sweat of his fear. He...

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