The Wistful Petal

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2026-08-24 11:11:16 -

The Wistful Petal

The summons came at the hour when the sun cut low and sharp across the stone floor, slicing the dust motes into visible, drifting colonies. "Elias," the clerk said, not looking up from his ledger. "Lord Vane requires your presence. Immediately." I felt the weight of the day settle into my shoulders, a heavy, wet wool that refused to dry. I was thirty-two years old, a senior guard in the Iron...

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