The Pale Bridge

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2026-08-22 06:41:04 -

The Pale Bridge

The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that turned the cobblestones of the Blackwood estate into a slick, treacherous mirror, and Arthur stood in the center of the courtyard, his hand wrapped tightly around a pale, withered willow branch that felt as brittle as his own knuckles. He was forty years old, a knight of the old order, and he held the branch with an...

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