The Golden Circuit
The velvet of the evening settles over the valley of Millhaven like a heavy, suffocating blanket, and I find myself standing in the center of the ballroom, my spine rigid against the warmth of the crowd that swirls around me with the relentless, indifferent rhythm of a machine that has forgotten its purpose. I am wearing the suit, the one that costs more than a laborer earns in a season, and it...
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