The Wistful Grid

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2026-08-22 22:24:37 -

The Wistful Grid

14 March 1892 Father, I write this in the antechamber of the Mirror Court. The air here is thin, tasting of ozone and old dust. I am thirty-two years old, a Captain of the Royal Guard, and I have waited six hours for the dawn that will allow me to do my duty. My brother Julian is to be executed at sunrise for high treason. I do not hate him. That would be a kindness. I only feel a cold,...

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