The Golden Mirror
Act I Could a mirror lie to the face it reflected? Franca Lombardi asked the question aloud in the quiet of the workshop, her voice sounding thin against the damp stone walls, while the smell of sulfur and hot oil hung heavy in the air, a scent that had become her second skin over the last three months. She was twenty-eight years old, a master glassblower in a world that did not recognize women...
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