The Iron Lily
The air reeked of sulfur and blood by the time Elara reached the ridge. Her boots sank into mud churned by cannonfire, each step a battle against the weight of her coat. The sky burned crimson, not from sunset but…
disguise
Read MoreThe Iron Lily
The Stitch & Stone
## The Stitch & Stone The scent of jasmine hung thick, almost cloying, in the humid Charleston air. Not the sweet perfume of gardens, but a sharper, bruised fragrance clinging to damp cotton. Eliza pressed a handkerchief – one of…