The Pale Banner
Act I The canals of Vellum churned with the grey sludge of industry, the water thick with indigo and the rust of forgotten ships. In the cellar beneath the dye-house, where the floodwater rose to the third step, Carmela Gentile sat with a merchant's folding scale in her lap. The brass was cold, gritty under her thumbs, the pans trembling with a weight that was not metal. She was forty-two, her...
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