Thorncrest Hall had not changed.That was the cruelty of it.Part of me had expected the room to look different now that I remembered dying in it. Smaller maybe. Less polished. Less powerful once the truth was stripped from the ceremony.It did not.The black marble still shone like frozen water. Silver chandeliers still hung from the vaulted ceiling, each flame caught in crystal and multiplied until the whole hall glittered with cold light. Crimson banners fell from the balconies. Thorncrest wolves filled every level, dressed in formal black and silver, their faces turned toward me with hunger, contempt, curiosity, and fear.The room smelled of roses.Not real ones.
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