Chapter 58: Magic is not omnipotent
Eleanor’s fingertips gently brushed against the rose by the window. She gazed at the swaying shadows of the trees outside, her voice barely more than a whisper, almost dissolving into…
Eleanor’s fingertips gently brushed against the rose by the window. She gazed at the swaying shadows of the trees outside, her voice barely more than a whisper, almost dissolving into…