The Golden Master
Chapter One Amelie Chevalier’s hands were already moving, the golden astrolabe’s gears grinding against her palms as she forced the latch of the scribe’s office door open. The smell hit her before the sight: stale ink, damp wool, and the coppery tang of old blood. She was thirty years old, a bonded scribe in the silk town of Aethelgard, and she carried her late father’s debt in a device that...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews