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    Summary

    He loved them. Tsaritsa help him, he really did love every single one of them—even 35, with his insufferable ego, his sharp tongue, and the quiet war of self-hatred raging beneath his clinical posture. Feofan saw Zandik in every gesture, every tone, every flick of a gloved wrist. And yet, no matter how desperately he tried, his heart refused to accept the lie. They were pieces of him, echoes of him, but they were not him. They were fragments scattered across time, and the original man—the one who had held him, the one who had chosen him— remained locked behind an impassable wall of cold, leaving Feofan to love a house full of ghosts.

    OR; Zandik has gone cold, and Feofan wagers his last hand to break the ice.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    11,219
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
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    Kudos:
    110
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