The Wistful Cipher
The chandelier above the ballroom floor swung with a pendulum’s indifference, casting long, swinging bars of light across the marble, and Elara Vance watched the shadows stretch toward her like grasping fingers. She adjusted the strap of her gloved hand, feeling the cold seep through the leather, and looked up at the unfinished skeleton of Blackwood Tower rising through the open roof, a jagged...
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