The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-23 16:56:37 -

The fog did not rise from the Thames; it seemed to seep out of the stone walls of the Imperial War Room, a cold, wet breath that clung to the wool of Silas Vane’s coat. He stood before the High Chancellor, his hands clasped behind his back, his silence a physical weight in the air between them. The Chancellor, a man whose face was a map of rigid lines and older fears, did not look up from the...

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