Blood and Roses
· Alessia DeLuca & Production Syndicate · 5 min read
The golden warmth of late October enveloped the Westchester fortress in a tranquil, idyllic glow. Along the sprawling granite terrace, the autumn leaves of ancient sugar maples drifted down in brilliant showers of amber, copper, and vermilion, dancing across the polished flagstones before coming to rest at the edge of the manicured lawns. Inside the grand music salon in the east wing, the acoustics were pure, resonant, and divine. Isabella…
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