The Golden Farce
The gold is bleeding again. Chapter One Sasha Voronov stood in the center of the atrium, his breath fogging in the air that smelled of wet peat and old varnish. The light from the high windows was thin and grey, the kind that only came in late autumn when the sky sat low over the Neva. He looked at his hands. They were trembling, a fine, rapid vibration that made the gilded leaf in his fingers...
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