The Golden Ritual
Chapter One Marguerite Renard’s hands were already stained with the iron filings of the day’s work when the first flake of gold dust settled onto her ledger. She did not look up. The clock on the wall, fast by six minutes, ticked with a metronomic indifference that she had long since learned to ignore, a mechanical error she had decided to keep as a private joke against the precision of the...
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