The Golden Downtown
Act I The Palace of Echoes was a mistake of concrete and ambition, built in the dry cold that preserved every crack and flaw. I stood before its shattered facade, the wind pulling at the hem of my uniform, knowing that by the time the dawn council convened, the Crown of Aethelgard would be gone. I was a senior inspector in the Royal Guard, thirty-two years old, and my job was to secure what had...
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