The Faded Photograph
The fire roared in the hearth. It was a beast of orange and black, devouring the oak logs you had stacked with such care. You sat in the center of the great hall, the stone floor cold beneath your knees despite the heat. Around you, the nobles of the valley sat in silence. They wore velvet and silk, their faces painted with masks of stone. They did not look at you. They looked at the fire. They...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews