The Pale Shadows
A man’s hands are the first things to betray him, long before the heart or the memory fails. Tadhg Mahoney stood at the center of the banquet hall, his knuckles white as he gripped the stem of a wine glass that trembled so violently the liquid sloshed over the rim and soaked his cuff. The court was a place of polished mahogany and low, conspiratorial whispers, a world that had no room for a...
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