The Faded Dust

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2026-08-22 19:04:26 -

The Faded Dust

The crystal flute in Elias Thorne’s hand felt lighter than it should have, a fragile thing of spun glass that trembled against the heavy, woolen weight of his sergeant’s tunic. He did not look at the band playing the waltz, nor at the colonels in their pristine dress blues who moved through the ballroom like oil on water. His eyes were fixed on Clara, his wife, who stood beside him with a...

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