Previous chapter:
Chapter 145: The Devil And The Rain
Next chapter:
Chapter 147: The Winter Flower
PREVIEW
... he palace washed in silver light. The stone walls were still wet, the gardens dripping. The air carried the smell of damp earth and fresh leaves. Somewhere in the distance, a bird gave a lonely call.
Inside, the halls were quiet except for the soft clinking and shuffling of servants cleaning after the ball from the night before. Chairs were being moved, candle stubs scraped from tables, broken glass swept into small piles. The echo of laughter and music was gone, leaving only silence. ...
YOU MAY ALSO LIKE

























