The Golden Mirror
The ink was still wet on the parchment when Thomas Bradshaw noticed the man in the mirror had already turned his head. Thomas froze. His hand, holding the quill, hovered over the debt ledger. The reflection in the gilded frame behind the desk did not blink. It did not breathe. It simply stood there, facing the door, while Thomas faced the Duke. "You are a clerk," the Duke said. His voice was...
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