The Wistful Petal

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 20:00:04 -

The Wistful Petal

The feast hall smelled of roasted boar and old blood. I stood at the edge of the tapestry, my hand resting on the pommel of my sword, feeling the cold iron seep into my palm. The King sat high on the throne, a stillness carved from stone, while the Chancellor laughed, a wet, rattling sound that echoed off the vaulted ceiling. I was there for one reason: to present the petition for my brother,...

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