The Distant Blade
The gaslight in the Duke of Halloway’s study hums with a low, electric anxiety, casting long, trembling shadows across the mahogany paneling as you sit alone in the leather chair, your fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt of the rusted dagger. It is a small, ugly thing, a ceremonial blade that has seen no battlefield, only the damp rot of a jewelry box where it lay forgotten for a decade....
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