The Pale Dance

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2026-08-21 22:44:18 -

The Pale Dance

The heavy oak doors of the Great Hall groaned, a sound like a ship listing in a storm, as Thomas Bradshaw stood at the threshold. He was a man of few words and a straight back, his uniform pressed to a mirror shine, though the fabric felt like a second skin that had begun to rot. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of beeswax and old stone. This was not a house, not truly. It was a machine...

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