The Pale Garden
Chapter One Pilar Valdes’s fingers were black with graphite and trembling as she forced the final entry into the royal ledger, the nib of her pen scratching against the heavy, cream-colored paper with a sound that seemed too loud in the damp, industrial gloom of the archive. She was thirty-two years old, a junior archivist in a mill town that had known no peace since the strike, and she needed...
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