The Golden Mirror
"The mirror is broken," Thomas said. His voice was flat, stripped of its usual warmth. He stood in the center of the cold stone hall, his hands trembling at his sides. The shards lay scattered across the floor like fallen teeth. "Who did it?" asked the Constable. He did not look up from his ledger. The quill scratched against the parchment, a dry, rasping sound that seemed to pierce the...
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