The Faded Bouquet
The candle flame sputtered in the draught that cut through the cellar’s stone floor, illuminating the sweat on Elias’s brow as he stood before the Master of the House, his hands trembling not from fear but from the sheer, electric weight of the declaration he had just forced into the silence. The room smelled of damp earth, rotting wood, and the stale, waxy scent of the tallow candle, a triad...
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