The Wistful Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 13:49:04 -

The rain in the Blackwood courtyard did not wash the mud from the cobblestones; it merely turned the grime into a slick, reflective sludge that mirrored the bruised sky above. I stood there, thirty years old and shivering in a coat that had not been tailored in a decade, clutching a silver locket that felt heavier than lead against my chest. Lord Blackwood’s men, two large men with the dull,...

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