The Faded Portrait

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2026-08-23 17:55:57 -

The debt was counted in hours, not coins, and the ledger lay open on the table of the ancestral hall, its pages yellowed and brittle as dried skin. Thomas, twelve years old and trembling with the chill that seeped from the stone floor, watched his father, Lord Aldric, trace a finger down the list of names and years. The air in the room did not smell of dust, as one might expect in a house so...

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