The Faded Shield
The count of the lead cames was forty-two, a number that tasted of copper in your mouth as you bent over the workbench, the smell of hot solder and damp stone filling the narrow workshop until it was a physical weight against your lungs. You were Elias Thorne, master glazier to the Crown, and the Great Shield window was your final commission, a project that would secure your pension and allow...
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