The Faded Quadrant
Elias Thorne wiped a smear of red wine from the rim of his crystal glass, the motion deliberate and precise, and watched the liquid bead on the polished mahogany table before the server refilled it. The air in the banquet hall was thick with the scent of roasted duck and expensive perfume, a heavy, cloying atmosphere that pressed against his eardrums, but beneath the clatter of silverware and...
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