The Wistful Dinner

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 14:50:55 -

The tallow in the sconce had burned down to a thick, white nub, casting a light that felt less like illumination and more like a physical weight pressing against my temples. I counted the hours by the drip of the water clock in the antechamber, a slow, metronomic tapping that measured out the silence of the tower. Forty-two years I had served the Duke, forty-two years of ink-stained fingers and...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews