The Pale Dance
Chapter One The bureaucracy of the empire ran on ink, and ink was expensive. Voula Stefanou sat in the counting room of the merchant house, the dry cold of the off-season preserving the dust on her ledger and the resentment in her chest with equal fidelity. She was twenty-four, a low-ranking clerk whose fingers were stained black to the knuckles, and she wanted the Senior Archivist post not for...
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