The Faded Bouquet
The torchlight in the great hall of Blackwood Keep did not illuminate so much as it accused, casting long, trembling shadows against the stone walls where the banners of the old houses hung limp and faded. Elias Thorne stood at the center of the feast, his hands clasped tightly behind his back, feeling the weight of the silver chalice in his other hand like a weapon he had not yet chosen to...
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