The Capital's Prisoner
The contract arrived on a Tuesday, three weeks after Percival Blackwood stepped on the wrong curb and was struck by a hansom cab that should have killed him and did not. He woke in a bed that was not his bed, in a house that was not his house, in a body that was not his body but looked exactly like it. The reflection in the mirror showed a young man of twenty-four with dark hair, pale skin, and...
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