The Golden Circuit
The feast of San Giovanni was a riot of candlelight and roasted pork, the air thick with the scent of sweat and wine. I stood at the edge of the piazza, my inquisitor’s robe feeling less like a garment and more like a shroud. I wanted promotion. I wanted the title of Senior Examiner. To get it, I needed to prove the heresy of Luca, the goldsmith. The city watched, but it did not see. It saw...
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