The Golden Farce

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2026-08-19 09:01:49 -

The Golden Farce

You hold the signet ring. It is heavy in your palm. The gold is warm. It has been warm for forty years. You sit in the high-backed chair by the fire. The wood crackles. Sparks fly. They die in the hearth. Margaret stands by the door. She wears black. The fabric is rough against her skin. She looks thin. Her face is pale. She does not look at you. She looks at the floor. "Is it true?" she asks....

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