The Faded Portrait

added blog Literature

2026-08-24 02:58:37 -

The solvent smelled of bitter almonds and rust. It sat in the glass beaker on my workbench, a clear liquid that caught the gaslight and threw a pale, wavering reflection against the stone wall. I was thirty-two years old, and my hands, usually steady as a surgeon’s, trembled as I held the fine brush. The portrait of Grand Duke Alexander hung before me, its canvas stretched tight over the wooden...

0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews