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Chapter 81 Sounds of Salt and Rain

Auteur: bluemorose
last update Dernière mise à jour: 2025-12-01 02:42:57

*Ana*

The rain returns as a whisper first—thin, icy drops clicking gently against the stable roof like a ticking clock. Time, slipping away again. The wind shifts through the open doors, carrying the scent of wet pavement and damp frozen earth, mingling with the faint perfume of dried roses from my garden—invisible beyond the courtyard walls but somehow reaching me here, curling beneath my coat collar like ghostly fingers at my throat.

Pendwick doesn't speak at first. He remains frozen in place, gloves clutched so tightly in one hand that his knuckles have gone white, while his other hovers awkwardly near the front of his doublet—uncertain whether to bow, salute, or perhaps bury his fist in his own stomach. His expression wavers between forced pleasantries and something rawer, more desperate.

Strawberry exhales sharply beside me, her breath forming small clouds in the cold air. I reach to brush her flank again, the familiar motion usually comforting, but my strokes grow slower, more h
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    *Bruno*The almost-kiss still hung in the air like smoke—thick, suffocating, impossible to wave away.Bruno didn't move. He didn't have to.Pendwick's face said everything. Not just the crimson flush creeping up his neck like spilled wine, or the dazed, too-wide eyes that reminded Bruno of a startled deer. It was the way his breath came in shallow, uneven pulls, like a man caught between a prayer and a curse. The way his fingers twitched at his sides—helpless, grasping—as if reaching for something already lost to the wind.Bruno hadn't meant to catch them. Not like that.But he hadn't looked away, either.The rain had returned with a vengeance—sharp, needle-cold drops that sliced through the lingering warmth of the stable’s quiet and found every threadbare patch in his cloak. The worn fabric clung to his shoulders like a second skin, heavy and unforgiving. Water dripped steadily from the frayed edges, pooling in the hollows of his collarbones before trailing down his chest in icy rivu

  • Will Bear the Moon   Chapter 81 Sounds of Salt and Rain

    *Ana*The rain returns as a whisper first—thin, icy drops clicking gently against the stable roof like a ticking clock. Time, slipping away again. The wind shifts through the open doors, carrying the scent of wet pavement and damp frozen earth, mingling with the faint perfume of dried roses from my garden—invisible beyond the courtyard walls but somehow reaching me here, curling beneath my coat collar like ghostly fingers at my throat.Pendwick doesn't speak at first. He remains frozen in place, gloves clutched so tightly in one hand that his knuckles have gone white, while his other hovers awkwardly near the front of his doublet—uncertain whether to bow, salute, or perhaps bury his fist in his own stomach. His expression wavers between forced pleasantries and something rawer, more desperate.Strawberry exhales sharply beside me, her breath forming small clouds in the cold air. I reach to brush her flank again, the familiar motion usually comforting, but my strokes grow slower, more h

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  • Will Bear the Moon   Chapter 79 Sinking While Standing

    *Pendwick* There were worse places to be standing by the time court dismissed—a lightning strike, say, that burnt him to a crisp. Or perhaps under a falling chandelier, the crystal shards slicing him into ribbons. But next to his grandfather while the last of the nobles trickled out after Lord Mykhol’s little performance?That might be the closest runner-up.Pendwick stood near one of the great arched windows flanking the throne room’s marble columns. The frozen winds beyond the stained glass breathed cold against his back, seeping through the fine wool of his court jacket like icy fingers tracing his spine. But it was the heat building beside him that made sweat bead beneath his collar, salt-sharp and cloying against his throat. Sir Celbest, his grandfather, radiated silent fury—a furnace of rage that seemed to scorch the very air between them. Pendwick knew better than to acknowledge it.He kept his shoulders back until they ached, the muscle between his shoulder blades burning as

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