The Faded Bouquet

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2026-08-23 06:00:04 -

The Faded Bouquet

The ink is wet, Thomas. It has been wet for forty years, and it will be wet when they put you in the ground." I looked up from the candle, the flame trembling in the draft that slipped through the cracks of the Inquisition’s archive, a cold, damp breath that smelled of mildew and old blood. Bishop Aldric stood in the doorway, his robes heavy with the dust of centuries, his face a mask of...

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