The Golden Song
The ledger held three hundred and twelve entries, each line a debt owed to the Magistrate’s coffers, and Elias counted them not with his eyes but with the weight of the quill in his hand, the ink drying stiff on the nib. He was twelve, small for his age, with hands that trembled only when he thought of the jar on Vane’s desk. The jar sat on a velvet cushion, filled not with coins but with...
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