The Faded Chronicle
The fog did not merely settle in the court; it breathed, a thick, grey lung that swallowed the spires of the palace and turned the stone into something porous and damp. You stood before the Grand Meridian, the great clockwork beast that dominated the center of the nursery, your hands slick with oil and the cold sweat of a man who knows he is being watched. The Duke’s gaze was not a look but a...
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