The Distant Promise
Thorne, you look as though you’ve swallowed a dead rat." The voice of Lord Blackwood cut through the grey morning light that filtered through the high, arched windows of the manor’s entrance hall, casting long, distorted shadows across the polished flagstones. I stood rigid, my hands still damp from the cellar earth, the heavy oak door to the wine vault behind me groaning in the draft. The...
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