The Golden Compass
Act I Veronica Urrutia, thirty-two, a scribe in the imperial court, and I want to deliver the sealed edict of amnesty to the northern garrison before the winter thaw; what stood against him is the General’s silent refusal to open the seal, his eyes fixed on the bloodstained floor where our last envoy lies. The room smelled of wet wool and old iron, the kind of heavy, stagnant air that settles...
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