The Faded Attic
Act I Could a man keep a promise made with a body that was already rotting? Ibrahim Asante stood at the edge of the banquet table, the weight of the room pressing against his shoulders, while the King’s laughter echoed off the high, vaulted ceilings of the palace. The light from the chandeliers was harsh and yellow, catching the dust motes that swirled in the stagnant air, and it fell directly...
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