The Wistful Dinner

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2026-08-25 05:54:13 -

The wax is flaking again, Lucien. I am writing this by the light of a single tallow candle, the flame trembling against the damp stone of the cellar, where the smell of brine and old blood has settled into the mortar. You know I have tried to keep the seal of Elise’s face intact, pressing my thumb into the soft clay as if I could press the years back into her skin. But the ink, that forbidden...

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