The Golden Farce

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2026-08-25 17:19:58 -

The Golden Farce

Chapter One Does the glass remember the hand that polished it, or does it only remember the grief? I ask this because the edges of the King’s ceremonial mirror are turning black, a creeping rot that smells of iron and old ink, and my hands are bleeding a substance that is not blood but gold. I am Lester Priddy, a gilded artisan of forty-seven years on NineElm Crossing, and I am failing the only...

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