The Faded River
Act I "Property of the Crown. Do Not Discard." The stamp was red, the ink dry, the paper thin as a dried leaf. Pensri Thammawong held the decree in his hands, feeling its weight, a sliver of cardboard that felt heavier than the stone walls of the ministry. He was thirty, his fingers stained with the same indigo that marked the spines of the books he was forbidden to read. The Chancellor had...
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