The Golden Song
The crystal chandeliers of the Vane Estate do not merely illuminate; they interrogate, casting a fractured, diamond-hard light over the sea of black tie and silk that has gathered in the Great Hall for the annual winter gala, where you stand with your spine rigid against the mahogany wainscoting, clutching a glass of untouched champagne that has begun to sweat in your palm. You are Elias...
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