The Faded Bouquet

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 06:30:38 -

The Faded Bouquet

The hand trembled. It was a small, specific tremor, like a leaf caught in a draft. I watched it from the shadows of the gallery, my fingers wrapped tight around the hilt of my sword. The steel was cold. The air was thick with the scent of wax and decay. I am Thomas. I am the investigator. And I am the one who was supposed to save her. But the hand was not hers. It belonged to the court...

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