The Golden Compass

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2026-08-18 09:28:53 -

The air in the antechamber tasted of dried lavender and old dust, a scent that had seeped into the very mortar of the stone walls over three centuries. Julian Vane sat on a bench of cold marble, his hands resting on his knees, fingers interlaced until the knuckles turned white. He was a man who had memorized the topography of every shadow in this palace, not out of fear, but out of a desperate...

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