The Faded Bouquet
Act I "Another one?" the clerk asked, not looking up from the ledger, his pen scratching a dry, raspy line against the paper. Xochitl Orozco stood in the center of the High Court’s antechamber, the air heavy with stale wax and the rotting sweetness that seemed to cling to the walls. She adjusted the ceremonial sash tied tightly around her waist, the fabric already darkening at the edges, a...
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