The Faded Apartment
The chandelier above us was a constellation of cold, cut ice, and I held the sword in my left hand, its pommel worn smooth by the grip of men who no longer lived. I had come to this banquet, hosted by Lord Vane in his fog-choked manor, seeking the one thing I had not known I had lost until I stood in the center of the room: my name, spoken by others without a flinch. For ten years, I had been...
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