The Pale Tale

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2026-08-21 18:21:52 -

The Pale Tale

The feast ends in silence. Not the silence of peace, but the silence of a held breath. The great hall of the Ashworth estate is still warm from the hearth, the air thick with the scent of roasted lamb and spilled wine. You sit at the edge of the long oak table, your knees drawn up beneath you. You are ten years old. To the adults, you are a shadow, a fixture of the room, like the tapestries...

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