The Wistful Incense
Chapter One Violette Bouchard looked back at the hall from the door, a ghost already, remembering the weight of the bronze mallet in her hand. The third year of her tenure had broken her, not the ritual, but the silence of the servants who watched her break the law. She had wanted to prove she was the master, not the vessel. The incense burner sat in the center of the ancestral hall, a...
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