The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-22 15:10:45 -

The Faded Bouquet

The iron bit into Elias Thorne’s wrists, cold and unyielding. He pulled, testing the weight of the shackles, the sound a dull clank against the stone floor. "Let me go," he said, his voice rough from days of silence. "The plague is in the east district. My wife is dying." Warden Blackwood stood by the door, a goblet of wine in his hand, the red liquid trembling as he laughed. "The law is...

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