The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-22 00:52:51 -

The Faded Bouquet

The feast hall of Lord Vane’s castle smelled of roasting goose and stale wine, a thick, cloying scent that clung to the tapestries and the breath of the thirty knights seated at the long oak table. Sir Aldric sat rigidly, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, his eyes fixed not on the food before him but on the wrist of his squire, Thomas. The black sigil, the Mark, had spread from...

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