The Pale Banner

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2026-08-21 14:59:35 -

The Pale Banner

The banquet hall smelled of roasted pheasant and wet wool. It was a cold night in Washington. The chandeliers cast a yellow, sickly light over the mahogany tables. Officers sat in their dress uniforms. Medals glinted like small, dead eyes. They spoke in low voices. They laughed too loud. Captain Elias Thorne stood by the door. He held a tray of champagne. His hands were steady. His mind was...

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