The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-22 13:07:18 -

The Faded Bouquet

The name was called out by the constable in the hallway, a sharp bark that cut through the grey morning fog, "Thorne! Get your hands off the door, you'll break the latch again." Elias stood frozen, his fingers splayed against the cold iron, the viscous, iridescent sap clinging to his knuckles like wet varnish. It smelled of rotting lilies and old copper, a scent that seemed to burrow into the...

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