The Golden Mirror
"You have the look of a man who has already hanged himself in his sleep," said Magistrate Aldous Vane, his voice a dry rasp that scraped against the high, vaulted ceilings of the Inquisition Hall. "And yet, here you stand. Breathing. Blinking. A nuisance, Edward. A persistent, stubborn nuisance." I did not answer. I stood at the center of the stone floor, my hands bound behind my back with...
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