The Golden Farce
The letter arrived on a Tuesday, bearing the wax seal of the Magistrate, a red circle pressed into the parchment like a wound that would not close. It was not the ink that caught Elara’s eye, nor the formal, archaic script that demanded her presence at the town hall within the hour, but the weight of the paper itself, heavy and dense as a stone pulled from the riverbed. She held it in her...
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