The Golden Ritual
Chapter One The quill snapped against the parchment, a sharp, wet crack that silenced the looms in the courtyard below, and Marco D’Angelo stared at the black stain blooming across the decree as if it were a wound in his own skin. His hands were trembling, not from the cold that seeped through the stone floor of the scriptorium, but from the strange, heavy pressure building behind his eyes, a...
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